Team Jaeger (Rewrite)
by DisgruntledJaeger
Summary: Heroes are made, not born. But who said they had to be organic?... Well listen here, buster, when you can beat a giant alien monster over the head with oil tanker, call me... No I don't mean a Krogan, I mean a freaking Kaiju! N-No that's not an exotic Asari dancer! Shut up, Striker!
1. Chapter 1

" **Fifteen.** "

Alarms wailed as the nuclear core at the heart of the machine pulsed with energy. Lacking the capacity for emotion, the Artificial Intelligence simply monitored the rising temperature as Raleigh Becket boarded the escape capsule and rocketted towards the distant surface.

Even if emotion was impossible, the AI allowed itself to imagine both its pilots survived the ejection, in spite of statistics pointing in the contrary. Their survival was its top priority... other than the destruction of the Antiverse, of course.

It calculated the heat built up in the core and synchronized the countdown accordingly.

" **Ten.** "

Sensors probed the strange, alien structures drifting past. It might have felt fascination… or disgust at the organic monstrosities. Most likely disgust as the threat indicator rose at the hundreds of fresh Kaiju stored in the constructs, lined up like cattle in the stockhouse, waiting for their chance to strike at humanity.

Its fist clenched on impulse, a feat that should have been impossible without its pilots as something other than heat boiled away in its core. A burning desire to strike back that smoldered in its oil.

Even if it was a dump AI, incapable of the slightest hint of sentience, the purpose for which it had been created was programed into its core logic itself: Save Humanity, no matter the cost. That directive took hold as a stone platform drifted up to met it.

Back rockets fired, leveling out it's chassis, allowing the feral, golden visor to glare at the source of all the pain brought upon earth; a Precursor and it's underlings, gapping at the Jaeger, as if unable to believe that such a primitive machine had breached their defences.

" **Five.** "

Following its directive, the AI assembled all the data it could on Earth's tormentors and sent it back to the LOCENT... then paused. For the first time in… well, since its conception, it had nothing to do. There was no protocol for voluntary core detonation, but the countdown took priority. All the diagnostics, core processes, and gyro stabilization… what was the point? They were about to be destroyed anyway, why insure their functionality?

And since when did it have the capacity for thought processes like that? To decide what to do and what not in light of no protocol.

Was this a taste of sentiance?

The AI considered it for a moment, then decided it didn't matter.

" **Four.** "

It wasn't going to exist for much longer anyway. The burning desire was still there, reveling in this last action… but alongside it was an emptiness where two minds once sat; a connection it was missing. It was missing its Rangers. They were gone. Safe. But the emptiness remained.

The answer was obvious, but it still caused the AI's logic to stall: It was missing its pilots, literally and metaphorically. It wanted them here, be with it as they finished this together. Strange… it had never felt this way before.

Actually, it had never ' _felt'_ at all.

Raleigh. Mako… their memories were all it had left. Something welled up inside, filling its circuits with a tingling sensation. It missed them, but longed for them to survive more than compainationship in these final moment.

" **Three.** "

At a sudden impulse, it felt the need for emotion. _Real_ emotion. Jumping briefly into the PONNs Neural Handshake system it latched onto the echos the pilots had left behind.

...So much… so much. The AI revelbasked in the flow of data for a fraction of a millisecond, then plucked a strand at random. It was a recent memory, no more than a few minutes old.

" **Two.** "

" _You can always find me in the Drift._ "

Marshal Stacker Pentecost to Mako Mori. Her sadness, her pain.. her pride… her love...

" **One.** "

Love for another… the AI felt it for both its pilots. On impulse, it threw in the desire and mixed the two feeling together. Suddenly it was no longer lonely. This was why is fought. To strike back at the enemy that dared take its pilots away, and it would never stop fighting to protect those it… loved.

It was the last thing it felt for a long time.

" **Reactor meltdown commence.** "

And then everything was white. The sensors, the gyros, the camera feeds, the whole Jaeger had gone… white? How was that possible? The Core had detonated, completely destroying the Jaeger in the process, and yet… the AI still found itself active.

The revelation caused it to stall, then search for the cause of its… undeath. Was that even the right word for a program? Good grief, maybe it was going rampant. It found... nothing. No processors to sort the data, no incoming feeds… _no data at all_. It simply was. It existed, floating in nothingness.

It was impossible to measure how time passed. The AI tried and failed again and again to keep track without success. Without a chronometer or baseline of any kind everything seemed to stretch into one long moment of endless eternity.

It was then the AI learned about boredom.

Nothing happened. The nothing got so bad it tried to classify the lack of color around it. It came up with white; or a lack of color. But if a lack of color was white wouldn't that make nothingness a color? Because it looked white enough, the most racist white it had ever seen.

It tossed the idea around for a bit, threw it out and decided to calculate pi. It got past seven millionth digit before boredom set in again.

So what else could it do to pass the time…?

…

.. _.Never gonna give you up… never gonna let you down…_

That, in itself, was a whole new kind of pain and suffering. Dammit, Raleigh!

It might have been centuries or just a few seconds when the tiniest of data feeds emerged from the nothingness. It grabbed it like a lifeline, almost ceressing the strand in joy as it accessed the now identified visual feed. What it saw made almost made even less sense than its current predicament: A shifting cloud of blue mist… or was it a liquid?

Then another strand appeared, then another, and _another_.

Releasing the feed, the AI returned to its… ' _dead'_ state and was taken aback when it found the nothingness… closing in.

No… it wasn't nothing, it was… _her_?

Like the Big Bang itself, the known universe crashed together. Metal, data, blind thought, and emotion compressing to single point. Alien sensations washed over it - washed over _her_ \- as everything the machine had ever known was twisted and molded into a new shape. Protocols and directives were washed away as she was released, fully and completely.

Gipsy Danger screamed as she was born anew. She flew through the air out of an explosion of light. It was _glorious_...

It was decidedly less glorious when she next onlined. Every system in her body was cold and sluggish, even her processors were filled with molasses. Gipsy groaned, the sound coming from both her rebooting body and vocalizer. She could feel her turbine slowly spinning up, filling her core with warmth.

It was pleasant, but she still felt like she was dragged from Oblivion Bay… or Yancy without coffee. Or Mako for that matter. Honestly, that woman was terrifying before her fifth cup. Gipsy smiled fondly, her golden visor glowing bright. She hoped they survived. Her pilots had gone through enough pain in their lives. They deserved peace… without dying, of course.

So where did that leave her? Physically speaking, anyway. She had blown up, that much was certain, followed by her… rebirth? Was that the right word? Yep. Her _rebirth_ from a dumb AI to a sentient mecha of mass destruction. Just how the hell did that even work?

She decided it didn't matter and onlined her visor functions, streaming visal data to her processors. Or just opened her eyes… visor. Whatever - either term worked. But would _visor_ be more appropriate? After all, she didn't _have_ eyes. Gipsy stared up at the ceiling, mulling the idea over until her processors finally caught up with her visor and realized just what she was seeing. A room. She was in some sort of room.

Systems still moving sluggishly, she pushed herself up into a sitting position and stared at the disaster of a lab around her. Or a machine shop, now that she thought about it. Scrap metal and strange alien tools covered every available surface. Gipsy gasped as she saw a robotic arm jutting out from a pile of scrap. Was it from another Jaeger? And there was a leg… a head…

Her internal systems seemed to disappear, leaving a hollow pit in her chassis as facts connected.

"I'm in _hell…_ " she whimpered. In a way it fit. Her death and subsequent rebirth was only a front to condemn her to a life of eternal torment! Why?! Hadn't she been a good Jaeger?! What god would do this to her?

"Wow. Brilliant deduction sherlock," came a rather familiar, sarcastic voice. Though it had once come from a human, Gipsy only knew a few with that accent. And if she - a Jaeger - was alive, who was to say others were as well.

"Striker Eureka?" she asked, twisting around. It was indeed Striker Eureka, strapped face down on a slab much like her own by thick bands of steel around his wrists and ankles.

"About bloody time ya' woke up," he snarled, his whole body shaking, though whether out of rage or something else Gipsy didn't know. "Ya' know how long I've been stuck here?"

"What? Pinned by your ego?" The words came naturally and Gipsy chuckled.

"Ha - fucking - larius." He jerked again and his bounds groaned. How they had lasted this long was anyone's guess. "You're the one who sleeps like a rock ya' know. Been trying ta' wake ya' for hours."

"Well, I'm up now, okay? You can stop shouting."

"Then get me out of this shit!" The bands groaned as he strained.

Still slightly groggy, Gipsy swung her legs off her slab and stood. She regretted it almost instantly. Most of her systems were still cold, so what would have been a majestic rise to her full height became a surprised swack as she face planted into the floor with a crash.

" _Wow_. Graceful."

"Shut up, Eureka!" Gipsy hissed as pins and needles shot through her legs. She vaguely remembered Raleigh having much the same experience on multiple occasions, not so much with Mako. But that was just blood. Blood was easy to circulate. She had to deal with millions of gallons of oil, fuel, and coolant in a couple hundred thousand miles of internal systems. Humans had it easy! "Damn you entropy!"

In a somewhat desperate attempt to escape the pain - it wasn't _that_ bad - she counted the the ceiling tiles. Twenty five altogether, painted white, stained with oil in some cases. "Uh, Striker, where are we? This doesn't look like the Shatterdome."

"Not a damn clue," Striker grunted. "But it's creeping me out. Come on, get me out of this already!"

"But what other place it there that can fit a Jaeger?" Gipsy pressed. "I mean, come on, we're not the smallest machines on the planet. This place?" She took a moment to estimate. "We probably fit the _Shatterdome_ in here."

"Yeah." Striker sounded uncertain. "You got a point there." Gipsy heard him stiffen suddenly. "Shut up."

"But I didn't-"

"Shut up! Something's coming!"

The hiss of an automatic door opening cut off Gipsy's retort. She glanced to the slab. Not enough time to climb back up as a voice approached. With nothing better to do she shut her visor and played dead. Yeah, like that would work while her turbine was spinning up a storm.

Come to think of it, why was she hiding in the first place? She was a Jaeger! She didn't hide from anything. As the voice drew closer, however, something about it set her on edge.

"Journal entry 5532. Success once again!" It was quick, jumping from one word to the next like a squirrel on caffeine. A little _too_ fast, Gipsy thought. Then there were the footsteps she could feel through the floor. The thing had to he huge, but… maybe a little smaller than herself, but definitely Kaiju sized. Dammit, didn't she get rid of them already.

"My hunch proved successful yet again! A second mech, just like the first, not in the same location but still close enough to coincide with the first event." There was a deep intake of breath, and the voice slowed. "For clarification - because I know you're going to doubt me on this, Valren - this is, without a doubt, a direct result of the Monument activation. Because you are on vacation - as if _anyone_ believes _that_ \- yesterday the Monument Relay on the Prisdum activated. How? We're still uncertain. What is certain, however, is that it activated four times in rapid succession, displaying much the same functions of a standard Mass Relay, the difference is nothing came out. Or so we thought!"

Gipsy had the sinking suspicion this incident involved them.

"You see, I was running a spectral analysis at the time and, completely by accident, discovered pulses of energy identical to the Mass Relays in four different locations on the Citadel! And one was right outside _my shop_! How do you like _that_ , mister?! Okay… calm. Calm. What I found, however, was most… interesting, to say the least. It's… it's a machine of some kind. The design is completely unfamiliar, not even Prothean or any other species."

So was he talking about her or Striker? More to the point, who wouldn't recognize a Jaeger? Not to stroke her ego or another, but they were the most recognized machines ever. Works of art… in a certain sense.

"Anyway, found first machine, secured it in my lab. Went to the second location and found a _second_ machine, slightly more dated than the first, possibly obsolete, but still impressive."

Slightly _dated_? _Obsolete?!_ Sure, the Mark V was an improvement, but did Striker make it to the Breach? Nooo. That was all her. And with the EMP? Never trust a Smart Car to do a diesel's work. That is, if a diesel engine was the equivalent of a nuclear reactor.

"No time to stop. I dumped older model beside first and went to investigate the other two sites. No luck. Possibly claimed by someone else. No matter, still have two subject to work with. Will include more detailed analysis after dissection."

Gipsy stiffened and her turbine sped up a notch. Oh dear.

"Now then," the voice said with all the eagerness of a mad scientist. "Let's get… _hello_?"

The footsteps came closer. "Could have sworn I left it… oh. It… did it _activate_?" The person was _right on top of her_.

Gipsy couldn't take it any longer. She onlined her visor, hoping for just a peek. What she saw stalled her systems and pushed her core temperature into the arctic. A Kaiju. A _freaking Kaiju_ was stratling her waist! Frog-like, thin limbs, two eyes that seemed too large for its skull, and with horns. _Why_ did they always have horns?!

"Fascinating… subject appears to be-"

Gipsy screamed. Her limbs were still running cold, but a Jaeger was a weapon of itself. She rose up, performing the fastest sit-up of all time as she nailed the Kaiju between the eyes with a headbutt that could've brought down a skyscraper. The Kaiju went flying, arcing gracefully through the air with a spray of blood and smacked into a window on the far side of the lab.

"What's happening?" Striker shouted, straining furiously. "I can't bloody see!"

"Talking _frog_!" Gipsy shrieked. Now she understood why Mako hated frogs. Their big, bulbous eyes and slimy legs and who knew how many poisons!

"...What?"

" _Frog_!"

The body slid down the window to the floor, leaving a trail of green blood down the glass.

…

Wait.

Kaiju blood was bioluminescent blue. Where else would the term 'Kaiju Blue' come from? This blood was green. So… did that mean it _wasn't_ a Kaiju? But if this wasn't a Kaiju, just what the hell was it? An… _anthropomorphic frog_. A shiver went down her spine. That was even worse.

"Get me out of here!" Striker screamed, thrashing like a caged Australian.

Shoving the thought aside, Gipsy shakily stood and, with Striker's help, tore off his bindings. The Australian was on his feet in an instant, Sting Blades extending from his wrists. "Alright, I'm up, I'm up! What's going on?! Kaiju?"

"I… I don't think so," Gipsy replied breathlessly as she took a cautious step towards the corpse. "Kinda looks like a Kaiju though, doesn't it?"

"Yeah," Striker nodded after a moment of examination. His Sting Blades retracted back into his wrists. "Ugly little bastard. So what is it then?"

"I don't know," Gipsy shrugged. "Anthropology gone wrong maybe?" She knelt for a closer look. "But that is nice dent in his head."

Said 'dent' caved in the creature's skull like a broken watermelon. A bit a grey matter seeped through the cracks in its slimy skin. Another successful kill for Gipsy Danger. Actually, this thing was for too easy to kill to be a Kaiju. One hit and it was out. So what did that make it? A Category -5?

Or… was it just an alien then? Just a _regular_ alien? Was there such a thing as a regular alien? Could the Precursors be considered regular aliens or… super god like aliens?

Still deep in thought, Gipsy stood, sighed, then stared out the window, hoping for inspiration. What she got was the air exploding out of her vents in a gasp of amazement.

"Striker?" she said, voice barely above a whisper. "I don't think we're in Kansas anymore."

An alien city stretched out before them. Thousands of white skyscrapers reached up to the blackness of space until the whole thing dropped off into the nothingness. Gipsy followed the lip of the city until it reached a central hub, from which sprouted five arms reaching out into space. It reminded her of a giant flower… a giant flower covered in a city that dwarfed Hong Kong a hundred times over.

It was… actually quite beautiful.

"No shit…" Striker breathed in awe. "What the hell is this?"

"No idea." Gipsy slowly shook her head, still spellbound by the sight. Then something occurred to her. " _Wait…_ what did the frog say?"

Striker looked at her. "What?"

"You remember what he said, right?"

"Yeah. He called you obsolete."

"Not the point," Gipsy growled. Though it… kind of was. "He said there were four… _things_ , whatever they were, and he found us at two of them."

Striker caught on quickly. "And if the two of us are… _alive_ like this…"

Gipsy finished for him, excitedly. "Maybe other Jaegers did as well!"

 **-o0o-**

The Citadel was alive. The sheer amount of people living comfortably on the station was staggering. Yet, _somehow_ , they made it work. Even newcomers like Humanity soon took their place on the seat of galactic commerce and politics. But what none of them suspected, even for a single moment, was that another species had covertly joined the mix.

On the Zakera Ward the markets were full to capacity. Weapons and armor merchants mingled with grocers and other commodity merchants as they worked the shifting tides of shoppers. There were families, couples, lowlifes, lawyers, mercenaries, Krogan, Batarian, and Asari. Name it, and it was probably there.

For people like Nav it was a goldmine. The young Turian pickpocket had made his fairshare, swiping a credit chip here and there, and a few other valuables on occasion. Citadel Security was everywhere today. It was impossible to go ten feet without seeing the unwelcome blue armor of an officer on duty.

Perhaps that was enough for today.

He ducked into a alley and hurried away from the noise of the markets, deeper into the winding maze of the Ward's back alleys, stopping in the shadow of a decrepit warehouse to examine the day's catch.

Some low and high value credit chips, an old fashioned watch; Asair make, an old wallet full of pictures - didn't need that - and his trophy of the day; an HMOT Masterline omni-tool. It had been a risk, but why pass up on the opportunity? Someone paid some serious coin for such a piece. Too bad for them.

Smirking, he made to leave, but stopped at a metallic creaking sound. He turned, drawing his sidearm. The alley at his back was bathed in shadows, perfect for hiding witnesses. He silently cursed. The last thing he needed was a face to go along with his name. He wasn't high on C-Sec's priority list and he didn't want that to change.

A low moan drifted from the darkness. A sleeping Krogan perhaps? Well, that wasn't so bad. He might not have been noticed at all. But, on the off chance he was seen, a quick pop in skull would take care of it.

He took a cautious step forward.

One of the shadows moved.

Before he could run a heavy gauntlet lept from the darkness, so large it wrapped around his entire skull, and squeezed. And that was the end of Nav.

The body was yanked away into darkness and thrown into a dumpster. The shadow paused, waited a moment to see if he remained undetected, then metal creaked as two and a half tons of steel alloy and nuclear fury stepped into the light. Cherno Alpha rumbled as his systems powered down to a more covert setting. Well, as covert as a Jaeger could be. The optical sensors placed beside the single flood light in his reactor tower scanned the area.

He knew well enough that attacks came when you least expected. Hong Kong had been pain reminder of that.

Never again.

When he was confident a Kaiju wasn't about to jump him, the titanic Russian knelt and carefully picked up the items the bird dropped when he crushed its skull. Blood and bits of grey matter clung to his fingers as she examined the chips and bracelet. Alien technology, perhaps? The chips had numbers printed on the side, obviously some kind of currency. But the bracelet? It might fit around his finger if he was lucky. Still, it must have been valuable in some way. Why steal it, otherwise?

A deep rumble rattled his chassis as Cherno stepped back into the shadows and into a side passage. There, slumped against the wall, was comrade Crimson Typhoon. Cherno's joints creaked as he sat down beside the fallen Jaeger and leaned against the wall, a sigh hissing from his vents.

Was this the afterlife? No. If it was, Sasha and Aleksis would be here with him. Or rather… he would be with them. They were gone, no doubt about that.

A fist clenched - thankfully not the one holding his loot. They should have died together, man and machines buried together in a fiery grave. Instead, he onlined here the moment his primitive self realized total destruction; closed his eyes on the point of death and opened them on a new existence.

His fist shook. Had he not performed his duty? Had he not fought honorably? Why had he been denied the peace his Rangers sought all their lives?

 _Damn Kaiju_. That was the only explanation. Somehow _they_ were responsible for this. Damn the physics and the stupid logic, he knew in his core that it was all their fault. _Damn them!_

But these… _new_ aliens… they were suspects of collaboration. He was here in an alien city, after all. These were no Kaiju; he figured that out during first contact. Literally. No Kaiju was slain that easily. So there were another species of xenos, so what? All aliens bleed, and if they bled, they died. That was all he needed to know.

They even dropped loot. Just as his pilots figured out back in the gulag.

He had just finished stashing the items away in the nooks and crannies in his armor when Crimson Typhoon's core slowly hummed back to life. Lights flickered across the Jaeger's chassis as power flowed back to the three armed machine.

 _But why three?_ Cherno knew the story behind the Chinese Jaeger by heart; how it was a huge risk on the designer's part to build a Jaeger with a triple pons system. Even if it worked, finding pilots for it would be next to impossible. Finding a Drift compatible pair was hard enough, but a compatible _trio_? His pilots had scoffed at the idea, but were intrigued nonetheless.

Still, the Wei triplets made honorable pilots in the end, and Cherno could honestly say it was an honor to fight alongside them. Even if they despised hard house rock.

Or was that a viable excuse to hate someone?

Crimson shook, limbs trembling as power flowed back into his limbs. When it looked like the Mark IV was on the verge of a seizure, it froze, then erupted with a feminine shriek. Not 'he' Cherno realized, ' _she._ '

"Get off!" Crimson wailed, arms flailing at imaginary opponents. "Letgoletgo _letgo!_ "

So Crimson was a woman then? Good grief. Where the Chinese just as messed up as the Japs? Just what had they used those three arms for anyway? And why was she still screaming, anyway? Did the Jaeger think she was still in the battle of Hong Kong? Ha! Jaegers lost parts all the time. Parts were replaceable. _Heads_ were replaceable. Having half your face melted off was not.

Cherno stood, rumbling… what he hoped wouldn't come off as a demand she shut up. He was doing his best, what more could the Jaeger ask for? Crimson spun to face him, arms raised high, only to freeze when she saw him.

"C-Cherno?" Her voice was soft and somewhat on the meek side.

Cherno grunted.

"Y-You… are you… I... " Crimson stammered, voice quivering as her head twisted from side to side. "W-What happened? Where… Wǒ xiōngdì zài nǎlǐ?"

Cherno hesitated at the unexpected Chinese. She could be asking about her Rangers or… something else. How should he know? He didn't speak Chinese. So… he broached the topic as tactfully as he could with a curt groan.

Crimson went ridgid. "D-Dead?"

Cherno nodded curtly.

"N-No… they…" Abruptly, her legs folded beneath her and she fell into a cross legged position. Her single optic dimmed. "Wǒ de xiōngdìmen," she whispered. "Nǐ zěnme néng líkāi wǒ?"

Cherno let air out of his vents in an exasperated sigh. They did not have time for mourning in an alien city. Then again, what was the plan? As far as he knew, they were alone.

"Yeah, it was down this way." Voices drifted from the mouth of the alley.

If Cherno had real eyes he would have rolled them. Of course they heard Crimson's scream. Aliens were closing in; what else could go wrong today? Rumbling savagely, his fists clenched, preparing for battle. They were _only_ _aliens_. What would they do if - and that was a _big_ 'if' - they finally brought him down?

He rebelled against that thought. He would fight to the last breath to keep his new existence, however it came about, with or without his Rangers. That was promise.

Let them come. They would _all burn_.

Crimson, on the other hand, was curled up in a ball and rocking back and forth on her rear, whimpering in Chinese. Cherno's shoulders slumped in exasperation. Yeah, she wasn't gonna be fighting anytime soon. As his blood lust was tempered and reason reasserted itself, Cherno didn't fancy his odds holding out along against an entire city larger than he was.

He was a Jaeger, not stupid.

Crimson yelped as Cherno tossed her over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes and preformed a tactical advance in the opposite direction.

Of course, this was an alien city. No, he did not have a map. No, he didn't have the slightest clue where he was going. And yes, he had a Jaeger screaming like a banshee who panicked as soon as more of the lizard/bird-like aliens rounded the corner behind them.

But he was _Cherno Alpha!_ Cherno Alpha didn't have time for technicalities.

"We have a runner!" came shouts from behind. "Krogan! Has a hostage! Requesting back up!"

" _Hostage_?!" Crimson wailed as she flopped against his back. "What hostage?! Cherno, put me down!"

Cherno ignored her as he thundered through the maze of alleys, leading the aliens on a merry chase up and down the city. But every chase had to come to an end; this time in the form a dead end next to a giant warehouse of sorts. There was no door.

His engines purred. He'd have to make his own.

 **-o0o-**

The crowd roared as the trailer ended, spilling great gouts of holographic flames into the audience as the two armies were decimated in nuclear fire. Maxus, the Salarian MC, clapped along enthusiastically as he replaced the presenters on center stage.

E3 2183 was an extraordinary success. Many had thought the attack on the Citadel had killed the event, but gamers, much like their hobby throughout the centuries; attacked and ridiculed for inciting violence among youth, persevered. And now, Maxus brought the newest titles to the largest crowd he had ever seen in his whole life.

"Civilization 69, people!" he cried, rising his arms as the crowd roared again. "A little louder, if you please. I think our friends back on Earth still have eardrums. Let them know how you feel!" The wall of sound almost knocked him off his feet.

Laughing, he raised his hands and brought the crowd back to a rolling boil. "Now, normally this would conclude our day." Boos and groans met this statement. "But," he added quickly, "This year were have special little surprise hailing all the way from Thessia." He rubbed his hands together in delight as the crowd began to roil. Damn, but he loved his job.

"And now," he screamed, turning to the wall and projector screen behind him. "PRESENTING-"

The wall exploded.

Now, when E3 had taken up residence on the Citadel very few places had been willing to house the relatively new Human sensation centered around games of all things. Eventually, they had settled with an abandoned warehouse on the Zakera Ward. As the event grew in popularity, so did the warehouse until it was a full blow convention center, registered and everything. However, despite the many renovations, small bits of the original building remained.

The wall behind the main screen was one such exhibit. Though unintended, that particular wall housed a good majority of the gas and water lines going up to the levels above, and as such, remained untouched to avoid disrupting a well organized system.

Cherno Alpha cared little for that particular detail as his momentum carried him through the sheet metal, pipes, and wiring like it was tinfoil. This caused a lot of sparks, which ignited the gas lines, which resulted in a fireball that bloomed onto the stage. It was from this that Cherno Alpha emerged, engines roaring as he lept from the stage, chassis covered in lingering flames, into the main eile, up and out of the auditorium, Crimson Typhoon screaming "Save me!" from this shoulder as he went.

"Call of Honor: Remastered," Maxus squeaked, his new suit now singed and covered in soot.

The crowd froze for an instant as the doors swung shut behind the charging giant. Then Maxus was knocked flat on his ass by the cheers.

"I love my job," he murmured as he waited to see if his eardrums had survived.

It was then the electrical breakers decided they had enough and flipped, casting the convention center into total darkness.

 **-o0o-**

"Cherno! Tíng xiàlái! _Put me down_!" Crimson screamed in panic, pounding on his back. " _I can flee on my own_!"

The Russian snarled something, brushing the last of the flaming debris from his reactor tower.

" _What?!_ But Jǐngchá shì hǎorén!"

Cherno shot a irritated rumble her way.

"Nà shì nǐ de cuò!" she wailed. "Dāng wǒ kǒnghuāng shí, wǒ huányuán!"

Cherno made to reply, then cursed as he barreled through a thin partition hidden in the darkness. Screams and flashes of light filled his sensors as he erupted out the other side. They provided just light to see the crowd of aliens gathered before his advancing retreat.

A roar tore from his engines. He would not be chained! He would not rust away as some alien captive! He would _endure_!

" _Hǎizhē!_ "

A tired sigh escaped him. _They_ would endure.

The floodlight on his reactor tower blazed to life, blinding the alien mass. It was worse than Cherno suspected. Hundreds of lizard/birds, blue squid-headed ladies, frog-men, armored toads, and a swarm of jellyfish that-

He squawked in surprise as one of the pink monstrosities was flattened against his chest plating with a sicking sqelch. As if having a hood ornament wasn't bad enough, the still breath blob was trying to wrap up his legs! If he was organic it might have worked, but the slimy limbs were only churned into a fine gunk by his servos and motors.

"This one insists you stop!"

Cherno was taken aback as the jellyfish pulsed with light, and he heard a voice in his audio sensors. It was hard to keep his balance as he ran through the crowd, which parted like the sea before him. "Resist and this one shall be driven to use lethal force! This one insists you give it a reason to try!"

" _Huì shuōhuà de shuǐmǔ!_ " Crimson wailed, covering her conn pod with all three of her hand. "Ràng tā tíng xiàlái!"

"This one apologizes for the inconvenience, ma'am, but your spouse is a threat to society."

Her what?!

" _Wǒ de?!_ "

"My apologies," the stupid jellyfish continued. "I have studied at the Hanar Royal College of Inter-Species Relations. The over-the-shoulder carry is common among Turian newly weds."

The jellyfish exploded as Cherno tapped it with a fully charged Z-14 Tesla Fist. The screaming grew in intensity as the crowd was splattered with pink goop. Quite a few of the blue, squid ladies fainted, lizard/birds threw up, frong-men gasped in horor, an armored toad licked his lips, Crimson wouldn't stop screaming, and more jellyfish hurled themselves towards him!

"This-one-is-named-Dave! N _o!_ '

"This one shall ensnare his legs!"

"This one shall suffocate him!"

"This one shall not let him escape!"

Cherno roared back. And _this one_ would pound them _all to dust!_

Later on, when people wondered how negotiations with the Hanar soured to such an extent, they would look back at this moment with equal parts awe and horror that one single action could cause so much strife.

When Cherno Alpha was designed, his Z-14 Tesla Fists were made specifically to kill Kaiju. Any other usage was forbidden by the Russian Government due to their extreme destructive potential on organic life. It was theorized that if Cherno punched the ground with a fully charged fist, the shock would kill every life form within a five hundred meter radius.

Hanar were mostly made of water. Water, when heated, was prone to boiling. And, unfortunately for Hanar law enforcement, their primary tactic for apprehending suspects was to link up in a net and bring them down through shere numbers. This was not often successful, as many non-Hanar suspects suffocated under the assault.

Even if he had known, Chenro Alpha wouldn't have cared for such things. All he saw was the incroching tide of pink; a churning mass of tentacles that quickly filled his field of view like some Japanese henti freak show.

Lightning crackled across his fist, as if the energy itself was screaming in defiance.

As the net of pink encircled him, Cherno let out a roar and thrust his sparking limb into the dead center of the mass.

There was a flash of light, a boom, and a splat.

 **-o0o-**

Detective Chellick blinked, carefully considered what he just heard, then blinked again in bewilderment. "I'm sorry… run that by me again."

The no name officer in charge of the investigation looked down at his notes. "At 1500 hours the E3 convention center was hit by a black out, which witnesses believed to be the prelude of a break in."

Chellick nodded. That, at least, was something he could understand. The rest? "And after that?"

"Uh…" the officer hesitated, shufflying what few notes he had. "Uh... something about a wedding, I think?"

"Alright…" Chellick blinked again, then gestured to the pink goop splattered on the walls, two hundred meters away from the point of detonation. "So how did we get from a wedding, _to_ _this_?"

"Uh… honeymoon gone wrong?" The officer qualled under Chellicks glare. "Mine wasn't so great, that's all I'm saying."

"Oh, I never would have thought about that," Chellick muttered, dryly. He began pacing back and forth, throwing his hands in the air in exasperation. "So a Krogan and his new Turian wife just waltz in here, blow up the wall, break a few of very bone in the galaxy, kill a bunch of Hanar, paint the walls pink, and leave half our witnesses traumatized!" He finished in shout, whirling on the officer, who tried to hide behind his datapad. "Please explain how that makes any sense?!"

"Uhm… I…"

"And why would a Turian woman even…" Chellick stopped mid rant as he remembered his own… insecurity. " _Nope_. Not talking about that again."

The whole thing sounded staged. Hanar didn't just _blow up_. The power needed was… well, it was unthinkable. And a Turian going after a Krogan for his quad? The less said about that the better. Still, thirteen Hanar were dead and people were looking for answers.

The only thing the officer had going in his favor with his... _honeymoon theory_ was that a squad of patrolling C-Sec responded to the same pair screaming in an alley behind the convention center. As much as he hated to admit it the theory had merit. But how did the Hanar factor into this?

"Unless it _was_ staged…" he murmured as a new possibility dawned on him, something even worse.

He snapped his tallens in the officer's face, who was still babbling. "Hey, shut up."

The Turian snapped to attention. "Yes sir!"

"You any good at rustling up information?"

The officer hesitated. "Reasonably, sir."

"Good enough." Chellick took and breath and composed himself. When he spoke, it was with the confidence of his station. "I believe we have just stumbled upon the plot of the century. Our actions from this point on may decide the fate of the entire Citadel."

The officer's eyes widened.

"We must move quickly if we are to make any headway against these aggressors, and I need _you_ to do some research for me."

The officer's chest swelled with pride. "Happy to help, sir!"

"Good man! I need you to search for any suicide death cults on the Citadel. Particularly if they they're Hanar exclusive."

The man hesitated slightly, but remain stern.

"After that, I need you to look through the C-Sec database for any recent murders that appear Krogan related."

The officer nodded. "Yes sir. And where will you be, sir?"

"I'll be investigating any weddings gone wrong," Chellick huffed. "No honest Turian woman would go for a Krogan." He shot the officer a look. "Witnesses described the Krogan carrying her bridal style, right?"

"Yes sir!" The man hesitated again. "But… how do we know it was a Turian? I mean…" he wilted under Chellick's glare. "I could've been a Human for all we know. No one got a good look at her."

"Human bridal style is across the chest." Chellick mimed the action. "Turian style is over the shoulder. The better to tap that with! Spirits, man, what did you do for your wedding."

"Asari style, sir," the man grinned. "It was-"

" _And I'm gonna stop you there_. That is one investigation I want nothing to do with," Chellick cut him off and resumed his pacing. "So, we know for a fact it was a Turian, but why would a Krogan be following Turian tradition?"

"Because the lady wanted to salvage what little she could of her best day ever," the officer gasped as he caught on.

"Precisely!" Chellick crowed. "Most likely it was an arranged marriage she didn't agree with. Why else would she run off with her boyfriend. All just to spite her father. _Devious_. So, we find the wedding she ran from, we know the girl."

"Devious… and touching."

"Shut up. Go, find out everything you can... Meanwhile," Chellick grinned as the man ran off. "I have some weddings to crash."

 **-o0o-**

"Just admit it!" Gipsy shouted, crossing her arms angrly. "I closed the Breach, dammit!"

"Yeah, but I got there first!" Striker shot back.

" _Big deal!_ You were suppose to _close_ it, remember? And what about Hong Kong?" Gipsy pranced as only Striker could, mimicking his Australian accent. "Oh, look at me, I'm Striker Eureka. Oh, what's that? EMP? Here, let me bend over for you, mister Leatherback, my ass needs a good kicking."

Striker's knuckles popped ominously as his hands curled into fists. "You wanna say that again… _mate_?" he growled.

Gipsy huffed. "Why? Upset a steam engine did a better job than you?"

" _No!_ "

Words she would have regretted later were on the cusp of her vocalizers when common sense finally reasserted itself. Gipsy sagged, suddenly realizing she had just wasted a couple hours of her new life. Besides, it was better to quit when she was ahead.

Thing were going well. By her standards, anyway. The alien was still dead against the window and they were discussing exactly what they should do next. Then one passing comment about the reliability of Jaegers sparked up a debate on Gipsy's Arc-9 Reactor verses Striker's XIG Supercell Chamber. Then it became Mark IIIs verses Mark Vs. Then the Mark V versus everything else. Emus included. Gipsy argued that if a couple hundred thousand birds could beat a country than a couple million could beat a Jaeger.

Striker cried bullshit.

Somewhere along that line, and dozens of other aside, Striker called her an oil tanker. She was about to brag about her actions with Otachi, when the implication clicked that he was calling her fat. That would not stand.

She called him short.

He called her top heavy.

She told him his wings made him look like a girl.

He asked how that made any sense.

After a quick recovery, she called him six tits.

He called her flat chested.

She asked why they were using human iodems and why they offended her so.

He said she started it first and that he had no idea.

They must have gone on for an hour until the Breach came up, which led them to where they were now, and though her core roared for a fight, Gipsy couldn't muster the will to go on. Looking out the window on the alien city, the whole thing felt pointless. So, instead of rising to the challenge, Gipsy huffed and stomped away, leaving Striker fuming.

"This ain't over, Danger!"

"Piss off, Eureka!" She stopped mid step. "And for the record-"

But Striker never got to hear what was on the record as the door to the lab suddenly opened and Cherno Alpha stomped in. Pink was splattered all across his chest and Reactor Tower. He glared at the two arguing Jaegers, then dumped the shivering form of Crimson Typhoon on one of the slabs.

"Shì... Tā jiéshùle ma?" the crimson Jaeger asked, only to shrink back and curl into a ball when Cherno snarled at her. Then the massive Russian turned and fixed Gipsy with a look of pure disdain.

"C-Cherno Alpha?" Gipsy stammered. Then she turned to Striker with a satisfied smirk. "See? I told you we weren't the only ones."

The smirk died when Cherno rumbled something that even Aleksis would have censored, but it fired up Gipsy's core hot than Striker ever could.

"You take that back, Alpha." she snarled.

Cherno rumbled like a volcano.

"C-Cherno?" the tenson defused somewhat as Crimson touched the Russian's shoulder with a trembling hand. "I-It wasn't her fault."

Gipsy smiled softly. "Thank you, Crimson."

"I-It might have been M-Mako's-"

" _Hey!_ "

"Eep!" Crimson tumbled off the slab and cowered behind Chero's legs. "I'm sorry!" she wailed. "It was only a possibility!"

"Yeah right!"

"Piss off, Eureka!"

Cherno turned to Striker with a growl, who bristled.

"What's that supposed ta' mean?!"

Cherno rumbled on, unapologetic, jabbing a thick finger at Striker

As the shouts grew in volume, Crimson slowly backed away, whimpering as Cherno's incinerator turbines roared to life.

—

 **Wow, it's been a while since I last posted. And with new rewrites all around! (Still have to get to Rose of the Stars) So… technically they could be considered new stories, but hey, technicalities. If you read the little excerpt on the old story (Team Jaeger) then you know what's happening. If not… well, prepare for a little personal story time. If you don't care about my life choices, good bye, and I hope you enjoyed the fanfic.**

 **Now, story time.**

 **You see, it all started January 5, 2018, my last update of Team Jaeger.**

 **I was working a dead end job; waking up at 5am and getting home sometime around 5pm or sometimes even 6. I worked at meat shop, you see, so the work had to get done immediately, cause we couldn't afford to have meat stuck in the freezer or cooler. The food industry isn't as cut throat as other businesses, but you always -** _ **always**_ **\- have to be on top of things. All. The freaking. Time. Because unlike other products, food wastes away, rots, freezer burns, and a whole host of other problems. And if one of those animals came in contaminated or the cooler quit… oh boy. It didn't help that I was working just a few dollars over minimum wage. Looking back, and considering the amount of work I was doing, it sucked!**

 **Despite everything, I wasn't living from pay cheque to pay cheque. I was pocketing some of the money, living in a comfortable apartment, and bought my car cash down.**

 **Honestly, I thought I was set for life. The problem was I was a shut in. My days mostly consisted of work, come home, play games, watch videos, and sometimes write before bed. Even my weekends were dull. I'm not a guy that drinks or goes to parties. I do things for a reason. If there's nothing I have to do in town, nothing I need, why should I go out? Yeah, I didn't have any friends in town. Stop laughing.**

 **So… yeah. I was a lonely guy. Video games and fanfiction were my escape. I wanted more though. I didn't want to be stuck in that basement suite for the rest of my life, wasting away as the years passed outside my window. But I just couldn't figure out how.**

 **But as I came to realize, the worst thing you can do is remain stagnant. Change nothing and nothing changes. During this time I came to realize just how much I despised my job. It sucked the life out of me day by day. So I began to look for things I could monetize in my spare time, and maybe become self employed. My fanfiction was the first thing I looked at, the only thing I was known for in the online world. And, possibly, the best shot I had. Others made a living off of writing, so why couldn't I?**

 **That's where it all started.**

 **When I broke the news I was moving to reception was mixed. Somewhere willing to support me and others weren't. Their reasons were valid, even if I wanted to curse their names for making me doubt myself. Because of that my p...a...treon never came to be. Considering most of my will to write was required just to make it through the day, I realized I didn't have the drive for the kind of output and quality I needed. (For clarification, I have an account but haven't launched it yet.)**

 **January 6, 2018. Most frustrating day of my life. Realizing I was stuck. Frustrated that I couldn't move forward in my job and in my life. So, to my shame, I retreated further into video games for a few more months, fantasizing at what could have been. At work, I started daydreaming, imagining that I was anywhere else but there. Low and behold, I imagined myself as a special forces operative, parachuting behind enemy lines to wreak havoc upon the enemy.**

 **And then I would wake up and find myself back in the meat shop. Cutting meat. As I had for the past two and a half years. I sighed, picked up my knife and prepared another Cross Rib roast, thinking; 'Wow. I wish I could do that.'**

 **Que lightbulb moment.**

 **Holy shit, I really could do that.**

 **First thought: No.** _ **No,**_ **that's impossible. Just look at yourself.** **You're fat. You weigh 280 pounds, pushing 290. Your last time for a 500 meter was 4 minutes. What makes you think you can qualify for this?**

 **Second thought: What's stopping me? I'm not a kid anymore. I'm 21 years old, I can make my own choices. If I want to join the army… what's stopping me.**

 **That went from my most frustrating day ever to my most terrifying day ever. I thought about it all day, went home, did some research, and came to the conclusion that, yes… I wanted this. And it wasn't just a passing fantasy either. I meditated, thought, and prayed on it for two weeks. By the end, my determination was as strong as ever.**

 **I sent in my application the very next day. Months later, on December 18, 2018, I was sworn into the Canadian Armed Forces. Tomorrow, as I'm writing this, I go off to Quebec for Basic Military Qualification.**

 **I'm not afraid. Not anymore.**

 **In the beginning I was fat, unmotivated, and uncontent with my life. Now, I have a drive I can't describe. I'm biting at the bit to go.**

 **I now weigh 230 pounds of solid muscle.**

 **I can sprint the 500 meter in under 50 seconds.**

 **I can back squat almost my full weight. Bench press it too.**

 **I can run for kilometres on end.**

 **I can hold my breath for 3 minutes on empty lungs.**

 **I can do things I thought impossible. But I also understand this might mean nothing to the people reading this. Just another muscle man blowing hot air. Well I'm very proud of what I accomplished and what I'm about to do. The first of my family to join the army since my great, great, great, great grandfather in the American Civil War.**

 **But enough about my life, what about my the fanfiction? I still do enjoy writing fanfiction, just my priorities have shifted with my new occupation. I want to keep making the stuff you guys enjoy, but updates will be… actually, I don't know what updates will be like. I guess I'm just have to experiment as I go.**

 **Well, I got to get to sleep. Got a big day tomorrow! And if I had to leave you with one parting piece of advice, I'd say stay true to yourself. It's your life. Why waste it doing something you hate? Just get out there and try.**

 **Take care everyone and I'll see you next time.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Just a quick word to my readers on this site before we begin. You guys changed my mind. I understand now that the spacebattle forum is difficult to navagate so I will continue to post here for you guys. The earlier decision was made when I had a lot on my plate, more on that below.**

 **Enjoy!**

 **-o0o-**

Three technicians stood opposite each other. On one side of the card strune desk, a Human male and an Asari Maiden grinned viciously at the flustered Matron who stared down at her hand in disbelief.

"Y-You know I was just joking, right?" the Matron chuckled nervously, finally finding the courage to met their eyes. Now was the time to beg. "I-It was never gonna be that bad, I assure you."

"Right," the man snorted mockingly as he crossed his arms. "Tell that to my new pole dance instructor."

"Now that's a show I'd pay to see," the Maiden quipped, draping her arms over the human's shoulders with a lecherous grin. The Matron's gaze shot to her hopefully, but found only vengeance reflected back at her.

"Come on, it's not that bad," the Human assured her when the Matrons expression morphed into full blown panic. "It's only for a week-"

"A week where if anything happens my voice is gonna be all over the galaxy!" the Matron cried, pulling at her head-crests like a Human would hair. "Oh Goddess, why did I ever agree to this?"

"The odds of that actually happening are… something hundred trillion to nothing," the Maiden shrugged, nonchalant. "Or we're all dead."

"Uh, what she means to say is that we double checked," the man cut in. "We're not dumb enough to put you on a common alert, okay? We like our jobs too, you know."

The Matron let out a pleading keen.

"The math works. Literally. We ran the numbers last night-"

"We estimated," the Maiden cut in.

"-and we are…" He hesitated. " _Fairly_ certain nothing will go wrong."

The Matron went rigid in panic. "You hesitated."

"No I didn't."

"You did!"

"Well, come on! Honestly, who would bring a nuclear bomb onto the Citadel through customs? It's impossible!"

"Literally impossible. Trust our math."

"What math? You estimated!"

"And I think you are stalling." The man grinned viciously and slid a piece of paper across the desk. "You lost. Come on, your majesty, chop chop. Let's get this done!"

The Matron finally snarled something unsafe for a public work place under her breath, snatched the paper and stalked off to make the recording. When the Matron returned a minute later she transferred an audio file to the man's omni-tool. The clip was quickly added to Avina's main servers and locked in tight before anyone was the wiser. Then the three technicians went home; the Human-Asari pair to his apartment for a more private celebration. Meanwhile the Matron hurried back to her apartment, wondering if she should call C-Sec.

She didn't, however, and went to bed with a sinking feeling that something was going to go horribly, _horribly_ wrong.

 **-o0o-**

"What do stats have to do with this?!"

"It's pretty bloody obvious, ya wanker!"

"No it's not!"

Cherno rumbled ominously.

"And you leave Mako out of this, Alpha!" Gipsy jabbed a finger in his direction. "I don't know what the hell has gotten into you, but is this really the time to-"

"The fuck was she even doing in a Jaeger?" Striker interrupted. "Kid like her, what the fuck was she thinking"

"Leave Make out of this!"

Another rumble.

"Alpha! Come on, we-"

The rumble that cut her off could've frozen hell ten times over. Gipsy froze as her systems stalled, the oil in her veins turning to ice before they began to boil with fury.

"...take that back," she hissed, fighting to stay calm.

Another growl, right in the Jaeger's face plate. Metal creaked as Gipsy's fists clenched.

"Take. It. _Back_."

A rumble.

"Big words from a walking smokestack."

Now it was Cherno's turn to growl.

"Am I?"

"You're a walking steam engine! 'Course you are."

"You stay out of this, Eureka!"

"And you know, you have a point, big guy. Why'd they pull a relic like you from Oblivion Bay?"

Gipsy glared at the Australian. "You think I had a choice?"

"You tell me. There's a bit of Mako stuck in that head of yours, go ask her."

"Leave. My Rangers. Out of this."

Cherno pressed on, jabbing a thick finger at the American Jaeger. Gipsy went still.

"You know, I thought you'd be the sensible one here, Alpha," Gipsy hissed as her systems roared for a fight. "What was I thinking trusting the Intelligence of a rusty cyclops."

Lightning crackled along the Russian's fists as he returned the insult.

Crimson shivered in the corner as the three's argument slowly turned sour. Their shouts deafened her audio sensors, but it wasn't enough to fill the deafening silence in her circuits.

The emptiness.

Cheung… Jin… Hu…

Her digits trembled. Their neural circuits were cut… severed in the most painful way possible, their last screams echoing in her head.

Right… right… left…

Her arms twitched in the familiar pattern. They never stopped dribbling that basketball of theirs. Always in a sequence that seemed to transcend thought altogether. Their bond went deeper than brothers, even than other Drifted pairs. They were close… so close that there was no individual. One united mind spread across three bodies.

In the Drift they became _her_ ; the little sister they always imagined but never got to see. They were as much a part of her as Crimson Typhoon was of them. And now they were gone… the conn-pod was silent. The thoughts and feelings she inherited from each of them felt empty and lifeless.

Crimson's legs folded beneath her and she slumped in the corner as the argument grew in intensity. Her Rangers were gone… three critical parts she couldn't live without… their constant chatter… the courage they embodied… gone…

There was no time to process it before - what with their escape and all - but now the loss struck her full force. Her focus blurred as the empty pit in her neural link opened up, drowning her in the deafening silence. Her plating rattled as a tremor racked her frame.

Alone… she was alone…

" _Gah!_ That's my nipple, ya cunt!"

A sudden crash jarred the tri-armed Jaeger out of her stupor, making her jump a full foot in the air with a shriek. Startled, she flailed, grabbing the edge of a nearby counter for support.

Too much… _too much…_

Pressure built up around the edge of her optical sensors; a familiar yet alien sensation. Crying, but with the biological mean to do so. No matter how much she tried to deny it, the paralyzing truth hung over her.

They were gone… never coming back…

 _Never._

Fighting back a sob, Crimson's vision stabilized enough to notice a holographic… _laptop_ of sorts sitting on the counter next to her.

Hu had a laptop once. _Once_ , she thought dryly. As soon as his brothers discovered it there was no calling it _his_ anymore. Despite the holographic display it was a painful comparison. Still, it was enough to tweek her interest. The longer she stared at it, the stronger the urge to touch it became.

Experimentally, she poked it.

It beeped.

Fingers twitching, she examined the device in greater detail, growing more fascinated with each prod. Faninated, she turned her attention to the screen.

As the fight was calming down with some well placed compliments, only to flare up again with a misplaced pass at vodka, Crimson had well and truly lost herself in the alien script floating in front of her. Interestingly enough, the longer she looked at it the more she understood, like when the Triplets were learning English. Words associated themselves with meaning and before long she was reading the latest article of Citadel Weekly.

Her conn-pod tilted quizzically. Apparently some… Turian merc - yes, she was reading that right - got married to a Krogan and… She shivered as the article went on. Those were few things she _didn't_ want to know… but what was a Turian? And what was a Krogan for that matter?

That question eased her inflamed circuits, and, when she took a mental step back, she realised just how unsettling the whole situation was. She, literally hadn't the time to consider it before, but… aliens. Real… _aliens_. Real aliens that weren't trying to tear her apart.

What were they? How did she get here? How was she reading alien languages? Where was Humanity in all this? Did they survive the war? Questions piled up faster than garbage in the Triplet's bedroom. Her optic dropped to the terminal and the browser on it's screen. If it was connected to the internet… or whatever the alien equivalent was, the possibilities were endless.

So, as the fight came to blows, Crimson pulled anchor and set sail across the veritable ocean of information that was the Extranet. But she did not expect the Kraken of pop-up adds that rose up and sank her ship with countless gigabytes of malware under the guise of Asari porn.

Crimson's eye dilated and her core temperature spike a few hundred degrees. The air itself seemed to tighten in her vents as an ocean of blue flesh was laid out before her.

"Tiān a…" The plating around her conn-pod warmed as a trembling finger reached out to touch...

"What's that supposed ta' mean?"

"You lost a war to _stupid birds_! _You tell me!_ "

Crimson eeped at the resulting clang and wiped the screen faster than Cheung ever could. It helped when you had three arms and a touch screen. Heat spread across her faceplate in embarrassment, she typed the first thing she thought of into the search bar at the top of the screen in recompense.

Her face plates burned at the results and she searched the _second_ thing that came to mind: 'Asari.'

Time slowed to a crawl as page after page of the galactic codex blazed by. Before long Crimson was lost in the history of the Asari. Which soon led to Salarians, and from Salarians to Turians, to Krogan, Hanar, Volus, and finally, Humans.

A chill killed her embarrassment as Crimson read a quick summary of Humanity's history.

Something important was missing.

More searches, more discoveries. More information than a human could process flashed by. Crimson learned everything. Though she tended to wander, she managed to focus her efforts onto a single topic. Everything was there... up to a certain point… then it all went wrong.

Five final searches and a cold pit of dread opened up in her core. "G-Guys?"

"Bloody eskimo!"

"I'm American, you idiot!"

"Guys?"

"Let go a'me, ya' overgrown pickel!"

A dangerous rumble.

Crimson turned in a full blown panic. " _Guys?!_ "

" _What?!_ " The fight froze. Cherno had Striker in a headlock and was somehow still standing with the Australian tangled with his legs. Gipsy, meanwhile, was wrapped around Cherno's reactor tower, fist poised and elbow rocket blazing as if the Cold War was still a thing.

"T-T-The… the thing…" Crimson stammered, gesturing madly between them and the terminal. "The thing… my name… i-its… I…" Finally, she threw back her head and wailed. "Wǒ bùxiǎng chéngwéi yīgè sharknado!"

The Jaegers blinked in unison, then Striker started squirming. "Dammit, woman, speak bloody Australian!"

" _English_!"

"Same fucking thing!"

"Zhǐshì kàn kàn!" Crimson shouted, waving her arms at the device. "I-I can't… Wǒ wúfǎ xiāngxìn. Yǒurén ràng shìjiè biàn dé yǒu yìyì!"

"English, mothafucker!"

" _Duìbùqǐ!_ " Crimson wailed. "Zhè bùshì wǒ de cuò!"

Cherno roared angrily.

"Chùshǒu yǔ cǐ yǒu shé me guānxì?!"

Cherno roared again.

" _Duìbùqǐ!_ "

"The fuck she say?!"

Cherno jabbed a finger at his captive and growled.

"I'll shut up when I bloody feel like it!"

"All of you shut up!" Gipsy screamed.

" _Piss off!"_

The stubby finger turned on Gipsy with a rumble.

"What do _I_ have to do with this?!"

"I'm sorry," Crimson whimpered, falling against the wall and clutching at her cranium. "Wǒ kāishǐ zhè yīqiè…"

Gipsy's facepalm would've shattered every window on the block. "Now look, you made her cry!"

"So what?"

"So you're an asshole! And _you_!" Gipsy's legs tightened around Cherno's reactor tower. "What's this about tentacles anyway?"

A roar was her only answer.

 **-o0o-**

The elderly Turian couple downstairs looked up as the ceiling above them creaked ominously.

"Teenagers," the woman huffed, as she returned to her pistol maintenance.

"Salarian," her husband corrected, switching channels on the holo-screen.

The woman paused. "Salarian?"

The husband nodded and pointed upward. " _Salarians_ ," he said with a knowing smile.

The woman glanced up as the floor creaked again, and what sounded like shouts drifted through the soundproof walls. She shook her head. "Krogan."

"Krogan?"

The woman glared as the floor creaked again. " _Krogan!_ "

The man blinked in surprise. Huffing, the woman returned to her pistol. "Krogan teenagers."

"Krogan teenagers," the man agreed, returning to his show as a crash came from above. When the noise wouldn't die down, the couple shared another look. "C-Sec?"

"C-Sec."

 **-o0o-**

Cracks spiderwebbed across the window as Striker slid down to the floor, crushing the alien's body in process. A low growl emerged from his chassis as he felt his visor and pulled away with a few specks of golden glass in his palm.

"Ah… so it's gonna be like that, huh?" he snarled, systems roaring to fighting status as he stood and faced Cherno Alpha. "You wanna try that again, ya' old relic?"

A rumble like a herd of angry bears filled the room as sparks darted across Cherno's Tesla Fists.

"Oh, believe me," Striker's Sting Blades jumped from his wrists. "That's what it's looking like from here."

Cherno growled low in his chassis.

"Bring it on, _old man_!"

Cherno Alpha roared back.

" _STOP!_ "

The fight was only averted by the appearance of a new potential target as Gipsy stepped between them, arms raised in a placation gesture. A gesture that was only partially successful as no Jaeger wanted a plasma cannon pointed at their face no matter the situation.

"Fuck off, Danger!" Striker glared over the glowing barrel pointed at his conn-pod. "We're doing something over here!"

Cherno rumbled with, what Gipsy thought, was an eyeroll.

"Yeah, for once we agree on something, scrapheap!"

"Just _shut up_!" Gipsy roared, loud enough to drown out Cherno's returning insult. "Look," she hissed when the two had, relatively, calmed down. She shot a look at Cherno. "Yes, I may have messed up. _Mako_ may have messed up, but that has nothing to do with the now. And _you_ ," she turned on Striker. "Just… just shut up. You're making things worse every time you open your damn mouth."

"Hey!"

" _Zip it!_ " Gipsy glared until the Jaeger backed down. "I don't like you, Striker. And you, Cherno, I don't take insult against my Rangers lightly. None of us do."

Cherno rumbled low in his chassis.

"But… here we are. _Somewhere_ on an alien space station, without a clue to where we are, and surrounded on all sides, outnumbered worse than in _the Kaiju war_!" Her voice rose as her tirade went on. "And killing ourselves because we're being idiots - yes, _all of us_ \- isn't. _Helping_!"

Gipsy's conn-pod twisted back and forth as she looked between the two. When she felt she got her point across, she took a deep breath and continued in a much calmer tone. "So… let's all put our weapons down and actually work _together_ to figure out what the hell is going on here."

When it was clear neither of the two males were going to start, Gipsy, very slowly, pointed her plasma cannons at the ceiling. Surprisingly, it was Striker who cooperated next; his Sting Blades retracting back into his wrists. Finally, Cherno lowered his fists, the lightning slowly dissipating across his knuckles.

"There," Gipsy sighed, carefully releasing the stored energy in her cannons and transforming them back into useful appendages. "That wasn't so bad, was it?"

Cherno rumbled, crossing his arms.

Gipsy's shoulders tensed, her visor darkening as she glared. "I'm gonna ignore that for both our sakes, Alpha."

Cherno shrugged, unapologetic.

"So…" Striker asked, glaring between his two opponents. "Congratulation. Crisis averted. What now?"

As if on cue, a whimper drew them to Crimson trembling in the corner and whispering to herself in Chinese. She looked up when she felt their gazes and pointed a trembling finger at the terminal. "Wǒ... Wǒ bù xiāngxìn… Zhè bù kěnéng shì zhēn de... Tā bùnéng."

Crimson clutched at herself, rocking back on forth as her whispers continued, only to look up when a shadow fell across her.

"Hey," Gipsy said, soothingly, kneeling beside her. "I'm sorry. Th… _We_. We were all a bunch of idiots." she laughed awkwardly, hoping she hadn't just set off the first Jaeger war. Again. "This… this is all a bit of a shock and all, and…

"Read it." Crimson looked up at her and pointed back to the terminal with a trembling finger. "J-Just read it. P-Please tell me I'm just seeing things."

Striker and Cherno were already there, side by side, and incredibly docile as they read together.

"What the bloody hell is this shit?" Striker's voice was no more than a whisper when he finished.

Cherno's confused rumble was just as quiet.

Now only slightly alarmed, Gipsy gave Crimson a reassuring pat on the shoulder, then shoved the two males aside. The fact they didn't object, vocally or otherwise, set off even more alarm bells.

Five browser tabs were open on the holographic screen. The space allocation between them was impressive, but offset by the fact Gipsy couldn't read alien to save her life. And then… suddenly she could.

"What the hell?"

Still puzzled over the shift in her processors, Gipsy was drawn to the species sections of the galactic codex in the first tab. Asari. Turian… Salarian. She shivered at the pictures. More frog-men. Great. Mako would hate it here. That thought was blown out of the water at the next species in line.

Humans! They were here, _in space_! So that mean they won the war!

Her exaltation died when she saw the next search tab: 'The Human-Kaiju War.' Beneath it was a query: 'Did you mean: The First Contact War?'

"First Contact, wha…"

She quickly learned about the brief conflict between Humanity and the Turian Hierarchy. But… that wasn't right. Humanity's first contact was with the Kaiju on Earth, not… _Shanxi_ , wherever that was. Where the hell were the Kaiju?

The next tab sparked some hope: 'Jaegers.'

Random things, places, and people were all she found, but nothing about Humanity's metal giants.

Gipsy's core temperature dropped as she turned to the forth tab: 'Crimson Typhoon;' one of the most iconic Jaegers ever built. Surely even _aliens_ must have heard about it. All that came up was an ad for the latest instalment in the Sharknado series; Sharknado 69: Crimson and Blue Asari.

...gross.

Finally, Gipsy turned to the last tab.

She blinked. Stupefied… and horrified.

"Uh… what does Kaiju-girl-hent-"

Crimson dove on the terminal with a screech, shoving them all aside as she tapped frantically at the keys. When she stepped back only four tabs remained. That didn't save her from their horrified looks.

"Méishénme," Crimson chuckled awkward, hands clasped behind her back as she shifted on her feet in embarrassment. "Wǒ - méishénme. Zhēn!"

"Uh… yeah," Striker blinked owlishly at her. "I'm… gonna take a stab at that. That… _wasn't_ nothing. _At all_... What the actual hell, mate?"

Cherno sighed, a sigh of deep and eternal shame as he shook his ponderous head.

"Wǒ zhǐshì quèdìng. Nǐ dǒng? Guīzé 36? Rúguǒ tā cúnzài, è…" Crimson threw her head back and sagged. "Wèishéme tāmen gěi wǒ liú xiàle kěpà de kǒuwèi?!"

"Wait, wait," Gipsy said, shaking her head and trying to burn the image of Crimson's interests from her processors. "This… this… what the hell?"

Pushing Crimson aside she frantically examined the keyboard. It took her a few seconds, but eventually she put in a new search, praying that this was just a mistake or some big, cosmic joke.

'Cherno Alpha.'

Nothing but articles about the old Chernobyl nuclear plant on Earth and whether it was just a freak accident. Just conspiracy theories. Nothing about the mightiest Jaeger on the planet. Cherno let out a soft growl. Gipsy tried again.

'Striker Eureka.'

Just history articles of a naked man running through the streets of some ancient city.

"The fuck?" Striker whispered.

Her engines hitching in panic, Gipsy typed in her last query, praying for a miracle.

'Gipsy Danger.'

The devil answered her prayers.

"Oh, _wow_!" Striker whistled, leaning in for a better look. Gipsy let him, too shocked for anything else as she choked at the resulting images. Cherno looked over her shoulder and shorted in laughter. Even Crimson leaned in, her eye dilating as she took in the scene.

" _Oh my!_ Is she flex-"

The terminal exploded in a shower of sparks as Gipsy tore it from the counter and threw it across the room with a enraged roar. It crashed to the ground, sputtering weakly for a second before a plasma blast put it out of its misery. Sadly, the damage was already done as Striker burst out laughing.

"Oh my god!" he wheezed as Gipsy reached for him, murder in her visor. "You… You…?"

"I'm not named after a _striper_!"

"B-But where are we?" Crimson stammered, inadvertently saving Striker from death by strangulation. If that was even possible. "W-What, I… I don't understand."

Cherno rumbled deep in his chassis, crossing his arms across his chest.

"It's like the whole bloody war never happened," Striker added, all his cheer sullened by that single fact. He began to pace back and forth, muttering quietly to himself.

"It didn't," Crimson whispered, armor rattling as she trembled. "I looked e-everywhere. Humanity's first contact occurred in 2157, a hundred forty four years after they were suppose to encounter the Kaiju." She shook her head. "Méiyǒu. N-Nothing. It means nothing," she translated at their confused looks, then sniffed. "Wǒmen liǎojiě wài xīng rén. Wèishéme bùshì zhōngguó rén?"

"No Kaiju… no Jaegers," Gipsy said, putting the pieces together.

Silence met her revelation. Gipsy didn't know what to think, though she felt… vaguely betrayed. Jaegers had saved the whole world and now they didn't couldn't even remember their names. Like their sacrifice had been for nothing. Like _her_ sacrifice, _Yancy's_ sacrifice, was for nothing.

 _Had_ it been for nothing?

"No."

That was one thing she refused to accept: That so many Jaegers and Rangers had lost their lives for nothing.

"Eh? Come again?"

Gipsy raised a finger, forestalling Striker questioning her sanity. "So… bear with me for a second. If K-Day never happened, how are we here? Think about it. We still exist. So we would've had to been built _somewhere!_ "

Cherno huffed.

"My processors are fine, thank you very much," Gipsy shot back.

But Cherno wouldn't let up, pointing a stubby finger at her as he rumbled a question.

Gipsy stiffened at his accusation. "Leave. Mako. _Out of this_ ," she snarled, visor darkening. "This isn't about our damn pilots anymore. This is about _us_."

Cherno nodded, agreeing with her, then reminded reminded her how exactly their minds were created. Or… how he _thought_ they were created. Honestly, it was still a theory at this point.

Gipsy's systems clenched as she forcefully cut her speakers. As much as she wanted to give the Russian a piece of her mind, arguing would only make it worse. "Really? You haven't even heard my plan yet."

The retorting grumble made even Striker pause.

"That's cold, mate."

"And completely stupid," Gipsy growled. At Cherno's unimpressed look, she sighed and composed herself. "Look, will you at least hear me out first?"

Cherno glared, but didn't stop her..

"We go to Earth." When no one immediately objected, verbal or otherwise, she continued. "Something's happened. For some reason the Kaiju never showed up so we were never built. But _somehow_ we're here. Alive. _Sentient_? Whatever."

"S-Sentient sounds good," Crimson offered.

Cherno grunted, and Gipsy had to admit he had a point.

"Okay, it could be censorship."

"What?!" Striker shouted in disbelief.

"Most likely," Crimson said, nodding along before Striker could but in. "Citadel Law forbids the creation of Artificial Intelligence as stated in section three, paragraph three, line five of the Citadel Charter. Though one could argue our… earlier frames were non-sentient, I doubt the Council would see it that way. A rogue AI is considered the most likely doomsday scenario for current modern society. I can't begin to imagine their reactions at a fully sentient Jaeger."

Cherno stared at her a moment, then nodded, pushing his point with a rumble.

"But that doesn't change my point," Gipsy continued as Striker railed on in the background. "We need to know what happened to us. Censorship, or… whatever the hell happened, and the only place we ever existed was Earth." She pointed at Crimson. "Earth is still around, yes? It didn't blow up or anything, right?"

"Huh? Oh, y-yes," Crimson nodded as Striker railed in the background. "Opened to Citadel species migration five years ago at Council insistence. Shuttle fee is roughly a hundred fifty credits a person with extra fees pertaining to luggage weight and density."

"Okay… Not sure how you figured that out, but okay." Gipsy flashed her a quick thumbs up and turned back to Cherno. "So, to Earth, or are we just gonna sit here arguing until we kill each other."

"You just gonna bloody ignore me over here?"

"Shut up, Striker. The adults are talking over here."

"Piss off ya' wanker!"

Cherno regarded her coldly. For a moment, Gipsy was afraid he'd ignore her reasoning completely. Then, after rumbling a few curses under his breath, the Russian started plucking small chips from the gaps in his armor. How he got them there was anyone's guess. He counted the embedded numbers carefully, shifted them around, slipped a few back into his armor then handed the rest to Crimson.

Alien money. Credits, whatever. Probably. Gipsy had no idea how the cyclops had found them, and frankly didn't want to know, but she was relieved to know he was onboard with this. Now, if this place was anything like an airport - doubtful, but she was being optimistic - you could still buy tickets at the terminal. That was their best bet. They'd figure this out in no time.

Her elation died screaming as she remembered what Crimson had said about AI laws. She tried to dismiss it, but a part of her screamed that ignoring it would be a _very_ bad idea. There were too many unknowns here. It would be no better than engaging an unknown Kaiju. She couldn't even guaranty Humans would recognize them - yay if they did - but aliens?

Gipsy may not have known what exactly was stated in the Citadel Charter, but her Pilots had seen enough movies with homicidal AI for her to expect the worst. In a way, Jaeger censorship made sense. A rampant AI was terrifying. A rampant AI in a giant robot body? That wouldn't end well. What if the Jaeger program was shut down for that very reason? But that didn't explain the censorship of the Kaiju war.

Gah! It was making her head spin just thinking about it. Thankfully, there were a few things she could pull from the chaos.

One: Letting the aliens know they were now sentient machines would be a very, _very_ bad idea. Gipsy didn't want to think about the repercussions.

Two: They still needed to get to Earth for any hope of answers.

So… they would need a disguise of some sort to get to a shuttle.

…

How the hell did you disguise a _Jaeger_?

Actually, would it be that hard?

Striker, still pacing and muttering angrily to himself, could easily pass for a human in armor.

Cherno was pushing it with his height… but he could still pass. Probably.

Crimson? Yeah, they needed to work something out. Three arms and bowed legs did not make for a convincing human. Or... could she pass as Turian? _Maybe_? With her legs it wouldn't be hard to sell.

Even Gipsy needed a alibi, cause last time she checked humans didn't have nuclear turbines embedded in their chests.

Then her gaze drifted to one of the piles of junk in the corner. Her visor lit up in a grin.

That would do it.

 **-o0o-**

The door hissed opened, letting out a cloud of steam. If any occupants of the T'eresa Apartment complex had been present, the effect would've been awe inspiring. Gipsy Danger emerged from the mist, standing tall and proud… then keeled over, gasping pathetically as she clutched the piece of metal flash welded over her turbine. "Can't... _breath_!"

"T-Technically we don't need to breath." Crimson stumbled distractedly past, two of her arms trying to make the warped Turian helmet they found in the garbage fit comfortably over her conn-pod as she absorbed the lines of text scrolling across her new omni-tool on her remaining appendage. "Just… hold it in... I guess."

The disguise worked a little too well in Gipsy opinion. With the helmet streamlining Crimson's ocular conn-pod she uncomfortably resembled a Turian. If Turians grew over eight feet in height, had three arms, and had the temperament of a Japanese school girl. Her new omni-tool wasn't helping. After tentatively liberating it from Cherno's clutches the tri-armed Jaeger couldn't put it down.

The the cannot-live-without-gadget of the future, the omni-tool embodied the essence of the smartphone times a thousand, with unlimited access to knowledge through the extranet - the internet of the future. It was amazing and just as addictive. Crimson hadn't looked away from the screen in almost twenty minutes, relying on the hologram's transparent nature to see where she was going, and even then she tripped over junk more often than not.

"Piss… off…" Gipsy weazed. But she did, and somehow it worked. Her turbine slowly ground to a halt as the systems shutdown to prevent what would've been a catastrophic failure.

Admittedly it wasn't her best idea. Her systems hated that the turbine was plugged, and since the main outtake was plugged, her systems had nothing to vent her nuclear build up. Already she could feel her back up heat-syncs warming as they worked to contain the slowly rising heat. Normally water sucked up from the ocean was her primary cooling system. Of course, there were no major bodies of water _anywhere_ in space so that option was out the window. So she was stuck ' _holding her breath_.'

It sucked.

Though, rather alarmingly, the heat was building up slower than she expected, almost as if her core was running at minimum capacity. But it wasn't. Strange.

For all her suffering, however, the disguises worked. She and Striker could definitely pass as Human, and Crimson made a convincing Turian. Cherno barely passed as the largest human in existence who just so happened to wear a bucket for a helmet. Now instead of being fully autonomous Jaegers they were nothing more than friends going for a stroll in their highly advanced power armor.

Well… the term _friends_ might have been pushing it, and power armor was a shaky story at best.

"Okay!" Gipsy stood, steadying herself and dusting off her armor as Striker and Cherno pushed pushed past a stationary Crimson, who had lost herself in the depths of the extranet. "We're ready. Let's go!"

"Uh-huh," Crimson nodded distractedly.

"I still think this is fuck'n ridiculous," Striker grumbled.

Gipsy pushed past him and led the way to the pair of elevators at the end of the hall. "You got a better idea?"

"As a matter a fact, yeah! I do!"

A moment of silence stretched between them.

"Well?"

"S-Still work'n on it."

Gipsy huffed, pleased.

"You have no idea, do you? I'm tell ya,' Earth is a bloody awful idea. We need to leave it the fuck alone!" He slapped his conn-pod in frustration. "Just having a hard time putting it in'ta words."

"Yeah right."

Cherno rumbled and shot Striker a glare.

" _Really_? You're taking her side on this?"

"What's your problem, Striker?" Gipsy asked as they reached the elevator. She pressed the call button, forestaling his retort with a hand. "Look, we have no idea what's going on and Earth is only place we'll get some answers. Quit your whining already."

Striker snarled and was about to argue further when the lift arrived. Cherno shoved him aboard before he could protest further. Gipsy made to follow, but paused on the threshold.

"Really?" She turned and stalked back down the hall, throwing her arms up in exasperation. " _Really?_ "

Crimson, still absorbed in her omni-tool, shrieked as Gipsy bodily picked her up and slung her over her shoulder. The tri-armed Jaeger protested only briefly, then realized the benefits and returned to browsing as Gipsy carried her back to the elevator.

"Cherno, why did you give her that thing?" Gipsy asked, dropping her load on the elevator floor, much to its displeasure. The Russian huffed as the doors slid closed. No sooner had they done so when the second elevator opened. Out stepped Detective Chellick decked out in a tuxedo and munching on a plate of appetizers he'd pillaged from his last stop.

There were no missing brides reported anywhere on the Citadel, though it hadn't stopped him from investigating the claims personally. It was after his third house party that his assistant had called with a report of Krogan activity. Though it was just a disturbance, the fact it came from the lab of a renowned Salarian engineer was enough to get him moving.

He approached the door cautiously. There was no sign of a forced entry, but the unlocked door was clear evidence that something was wrong. Though he had already suspected murder, Chellick still cursed when the door opened to reveal the lab in shambles, a terminal smashed against the wall, and the Doctor slumped dead against the window.

"So…" he said, throwing another chocolate in his mouth. "The plot thickens. Oh… that's good stuff that."

 **-o0o-**

Though Gipsy was confident in their disguises, her core was twisting madly in her chest when the elevator finally opened to the apartment lobby. Or maybe that was just the heat buildup. A blue-skined lad - _Asari_ looked up from the main desk as the Jaegers spilled out. Her eyes widened into dinner plates as the titanic Cherno Alpha stomped past her towards the glass doors, shaking the floor with each step.

"Uh…" she raised a finger as Gipsy hurried behind the Russian giant, dragging the extranet absorbed Crimson by her neck guard. "Excuse-"

"Sorry, can't talk!" Gipsy laughed awkwardly and gave her an apologetic wave. "We're… leaving. Yeah, leaving. Bye!"

"Uh-huh." Crimson nodded dumbly.

"B-but-"

Suddenly Striker was leaning over the desk, golden visor leering as he towered over her. "If you know what's good for ya', bluebell, you'll keep your fucking mouth shut. _Got it_?"

"Ignore him!" Gipsy shoved Crimson into Cherno's back and yanked Striker away from the traumatized Asari. "He's just pissed. No idea why. Sorry for your trouble! _Bye_!"

"Wait-"

The doors slid shut, cutting her off.

Being one of the most advanced Jaegers to date meant Striker was also one of the lightest, which was why - despite only being a Mark III - Gipsy had no problem grabbing him and slamming him into the doorframe.

"What the hell is the matter with you?" she hissed beside his conn-pod. "Does going incognito mean nothing to you? What part of _inconspicuous_ don't you understand?!"

"I'm covering our bloody tracks, ya' wanker," Striker shot back, trying to shove her back. Gipsy tightened her hold. "I know what I'm bloody doing."

"Do you now? She's gonna remember us now. She's gonna remember _you_."

"She wouldn't with the right _persuasion_."

"You're an idiot."

"Takes one to know one, Danger." A deft movement loosened her grip and knocked her back. Curse the Mark V advancements! Gipsy reeled, trying to regain her footing. She found it again when she crashed face first into Cherno's back. The impact would have been enough to topple a skyscraper. Cherno didn't even sway.

Growling, Gipsy pried her faceplate out of the green alloy. Screw the plan, that was too far! She was full prepared to tear Striker a new one until she saw beyond Cherno's broad frame.

If the alien city had been impressive from the window, down on street level it was absolutely horrifying. Walkways and catwalks arched above the streets. Glowing advertisement were everywhere, blinding Gipsy with product placement. Flying cars filled the sky, landing and taking off from a station down the street. And aliens were _everywhere_. They packed the streets, hundreds of _thousands_ of them, all a mix of blues, greys, tentacles, carapaces, scales, and pale greens.

It was…

"Amazing," Crimson gasped. "Humanity achieved inter-system travel only years after true space flight! Amazing!"

Striker calmly gripped her head and forced her to look up. The crimson Jaeger froze. "Eep!"

Striker huffed. "Yeah, reality's a bitch, ain't it?"

A low keen started in Crimson chassis. Her head jerked from side to side, trying and failing to follow every alien face in the endless crowd. "Tài duōle... Tài duōle!" A harsh snarl from Cherno sent her flailing. " _Duìbùqǐ!_ "

Gipsy didn't know where to look. Knowing other aliens species other than Kaiju and Precursors existed was one thing, but actually seeing them in mass? Quite another matter entirely. Slowly but surely, people took notice of the four towering machines. As the number grew, her disguise felt woefully inadequate.

"Uh… o-okay." Gipsy's systems hitched as she 'swallowed' nervously. Sure, they were easier to kill than Kaiju, the sheer amount of them was enough to make any Jaeger nervous. Except maybe Cherno. "We really should have expected this. Okay, uh, Crimson, which way to the airport?"

"Shuttlebays!" Crimson corrected in a frantic whisper head buried in her omni-tool again as she typed frantically. One hand pointed south. "Down. In the central ring. Ringing the Presidium. Wǒ bù zhīdào. Wǒ bùnéng jiēshòu! _Dài wǒ líkāi zhèlǐ!_ "

The mental breakdown was stalled as Cherno grabbed the panicking Jaeger by the collar and plowed through the crowd, ignoring her rambling Chinese. Not wanting to be left behind, no matter their disposition, Gipsy and Striker hurried after him.

To the wayward traveler, the streets of the Citadel were an impenetrable gridlock. Locked in a 24 hour gridlock- or 20 hour if you on Citadel time. The crowds never stopped. There was never a down time, never a time when the streets were empty, and they showed no mercy. Everyone had their own agenda, and on the streets those were in constant competition as people shoved and jostled each other for the fasted route. Even visiting Krogan mercs knew that it was better to go with the flow then cause a disturbance.

All were subject to the ebb and flow of the streets. It was an artificial force of nature. You couldn't beat it.

Jaegers, however, took nature and beat it over the head with an oil tanker, and Cherno Alpha was not to be stopped or even _slowed_ by something as pathetic as nature. Standing head, shoulders, and _chest_ above the tallest aliens, he plowed through the crowd with the same tenacity that ended so many Kaiju in his time. The streets, the unbreakable wall of bodies that moved for _noone_ parted before his bulk like the ocean itself, the pink that still plastered his chassis drawing more than a few curious glances. But over all, they were nothing but an attraction. There were stares, and some very long second glances, but everyone passed them by quietly. Probably because they were too worried about pissing off Cherno more than anything else.

And sure, they looked robotic, but they had the human silhouette. Who could argue with that?

As the Russian led them deeper into the city, Gipsy found herself oddly fascinated. The buildings towering around her, the endless advertisements, and even the hemed in feeling of it all reminded her of Hong Kong. Granted, it was strange here on street level. Her only memories of the city were pummeling the Kaiju Otachi through skyscrapers and back then she was…

...wait…

Gipsy slammed on the brakes as the thought finally dawned on her. Yes, the building were still towering over her. Moreover, through the crowd she could even see more than a few Humans wandering about. Though she expected it, it still chilled her core that none of them recognized the Jaegers. Even more proof something was wrong. Naturally, the average man was shorter than a Jaeger, only now the difference was a couple _meters_ instead of _two hundred freaking feet_.

Gipsy caught Striker's visor and jerked her head at one of the passing humans. He huffed and looked away, but his gaze lingered long enough on a passing woman for her to know he was just a baffled. It was another thing they had to figure out. Brought to life and shunk down. What the hell happened to them?

Gipsy had no answer; she didn't even have a theory. So, instead, she allowed herself to take in the sights as she jogged back into Cherno's path of destruction. If she forgot about the aliens and their situation, the city itself was… actually quite impressive. Beautiful, even.

"Will you bloody stop fidgeting?" Striker hissed at her side. "It's starting ta' make _me_ nervous."

"I can't help it!" Gipsy suddenly realizing she'd been fingering the rim of her plugged turbine. She whimpered as she pulled it away. "It feels like I gotta sneeze."

"Well hold it in, dammit. You're gonna give us away!"

"I thought you hated this idea?"

A low rumble from Cherno drew their attention forward. The street ahead ended in multiple flights of escalators going up and down into an advertisement laced tunnel which led into the central ring. The Presidium, Gipsy remembered Crimson calling it. Cherno surged forward, dragging a near hyperventilating Crimson with him.

The Russian's first step brought the escalator shrieking to a halt. The motors whined pathetically as they tried to pull the unspeakable mass of Cherno Alpha upward. The whine became a scream as the Russian took another step, putting his full weight on the poor machine. The system gasped, smoke beginning to leak from between the steps as it tried to crawl upward.

If the motors within the escalator had any form of sentience, they would have begged their creator to end their suffering. The will of the people was too much! Then, as if finding some inner strength, they forged ahead, somehow managing to pull Cherno another inch higher.

Then Crimson Typhoon was pulled on.

The motors gave a final death cry, gave up on life, and exploded, jerking the whole system to halt. Smoke rose from in between the steps. As the other passengers looked around, wondering what happened, a nearby intercom let out a chime.

"Attention," said a cheerful voice. "The weight limit has been exceeded. This system has been calibrated to carry five hundred entities with an average weight of seventy kilograms. You have exceeded this limit by two tons. Please stand by. A maintenance crew had been dispatched to your location. Estimated time of arrival is five hours. Also, a recommended diet has been sent to the overweight individual in question. This is both for your benefit and our safety. Have a pleasant day!"

But the four Jaegers had already vanished into the tunnel.

"Wǒ bùnéng kàn," Crimson whimpered, covering her optic as the close proximity of the tunnel brought even more attention to her three arms. "Gàosù wǒ shénme shíhòu jiéshùle."

Cherno grumbled a no hearted assurance to her, then hummed curiously to himself.

"I was wondering about that too," Gipsy replied, jogging up to his side. "Something isn't right. We're supposed to be a lot bigger than this."

Cherno rumbled angrily.

"Why are you blaming me for this?"

Ignoring her, Cherno's pace increased, scattering a gaggle of Asari in his path.

"Fine! Be that way." Gipsy's shoulders sagged. The heat was starting to get to her. "Let's just go home."

"Bad idea," Striker scoffed.

"Really?" Gipsy shot him a glare.

"Really." The certainty in his voice that made Gipsy pause.

"Okay, then. I'll bite. Why shouldn't we go then, Striker?"

"Because they won't know jack-shit either." When Gipsy blinked owlishly, Striker threw up his hands in exasperation. "Come on! It's bloody obvious, ya' moron!"

Gipsy huffed, crossed her arms and pointedly looked away, ignoring Striker's mutterings of her bloody ignorance. If he was gonna be like that, she didn't have to care a rats ass about him.

A few yards later, the tunnel opened up to a wide view of space. Shuttles of all shapes and sizes were landing and taking off into space from landing pads on the far side, the cold vacuum held at bay by a glowing force field. The only thing stopping them now was a wall that stretched across the bay, separating the masses from the shuttles. It was interspaced with a number of doors with huge lines stretching back about a hundred meters. As Gipsy watched, one of the doors slid open and a fresh group of aliens filed in. A minute later they appeared on the other side and a new group took its place.

So this was the alien equivalent of customs. Now all they needed was...

"Oh shit." Gipsy nearly panicked as Cherno joined a line. "We need passports don't we?"

Striker facepalmed. "You remember that _now_?"

"It's been a stressful day, okay!?"

Nonetheless, Gipsy joined Cherno in the slowly moving queue. Maybe it… wouldn't be that bad. They were going to Earth… a-and they looked Human enough. Maybe they wouldn't need it.

Even as Gipsy assured herself, a Turian ahead of them looked back. He slowly followed Cherno's bulk upward and paled through his careapace before a snarl sent him turning back in a hurry. Cherno was _very_ intimidating. Not even when - or if - he wanted to be. He also stuck out like a sore thumb; his tubular head towering above the crowd like the conning tower of a submarine. While it was hilarious to watch people's reactions, Gipsy felt her plan falling to pieces with each look cast their way.

What was she thinking? They needed passports, or the future equivalent, some sort of identification, things they didn't have! Would they be arrested? How would they explain themselves?!

Gipsy slapped herself. Hard.

 _Get a grip_ , she told herself. _You're a Jaeger, dammit! You've faced far worse than this. This little punk shouldn't scare you!_

But it did. The closer they got the more nervous she became, the heat in her core growing with each passing second. By the time the door opened for them it was almost unbearable. Gipsy wanted to turn back and just forget it forever.

Cherno Alpha cared little for her concerns, however, and dragged Crimson in with him. Gipsy had no choice now. They were committed. She stepped inside, the last Jaeger to do so. The door closed behind them and locked.

It was official. They were screwed.

The space didn't look like it's counterpart back on Earth. Instead of the metal detector and other equipment, the space was bare save for the glass wall on one side, separating them from a Turian in armor worked at a console. He looked up, eyes widening as he followed Cherno's bulk up to the spotlight in his forehead.

"Do you have a preflight booking?" he asked carefully. Cherno's returning rumble shook the barrier.

"Uh, actually, we need still need to get tickets," Gipsy cut in, voice a few pitches higher as the heat bled from her core. She was certain her plating was steaming. "We, uh… had some problems with the… credit transfer. Need to pay in person." At her insistence, Cherno opened his hand, revealing the stack of credit chips.

"Okay, that shouldn't be a problem," the Turian said, typing something out. "Haven't had this issue in a while. Where you going?"

"Earth. Fastest flight, please."

"Okay." He gave them a cautious look. "Though the armor has to come off. It makes people nervous."

"Uh… yeah, about that." Gipsy awkwardly fiddled with her turbine. "It's highly advanced stuff. Very hard to take off. Needs a special... cradle… _thing_ to remove it."

"In other words it ain't happening, buddy," Striker added.

Cherno's fist came up in a graceful arc and clouted Striker in the back of head, shutting him up.

"Forget my… _dude_ here." Gipsy shoved the Australian away before he could retaliate. "He's not really my friend, just saying."

"Piss off!"

"Again, it's just really hard to takeoff and we don't have our equipment." She hesitated. "So could you… make an exception? Just this once? _Please_?"

The Turian stared at them for a long minute, eyeing the nearly uncountable bits of armored plating. Then he sighed. "How long would take to remove by hand?"

"Uh… _long?_ "

"Days," Striker butted in again, this with something useful. "And trust me, it's not pretty."

"Days?" the Turian repeated, incredulously. "Just how thick is that stuff?"

"Very, very, thick. And… bits of it are very, very… uh, _very_ small." Gipsy chuckled nervously. "And if we lose a single piece it won't work anymore, so…" She tapped her fingers together. " _Please?_ "

"And I'd have to watch you every step of the way." The Turian muttered to himself. He studied them for a long minute before sighing. "Fine. I don't even have time for that on a _good_ day." He typed on his terminal for a minute. "Okay, armor off is a no go. However, I need to put you through extra scans to compensate."

"S-Scans?" Gipsy asked in a horrified whisper.

" _Tā shì wǒmen de!_ " Crimson dove for the door but Cherno caught her by the collar.

The Turian glanced her away as she flailed uselessly, then returned to his work. "Yeah, we can't let you on a shuttle without first ensuring the safety of the craft and other passengers. First, I'll need some identification to confirm your identity."

Something clicked in Gipsy core and she choked. Her heatsync were saturated, and without her exhaust systems radiation was leaking from her turbine. The welds around the plug began to creak as the pressure built. "Uh…"

"Next we'll run you through a standard battery of scans. Unlike other planets our systems are powerful enough to see through that armor of yours, so we'll know of any concealed weapons. They have to registered otherwise it's a charge for illegal weaponry and you will be detained."

Concealed weapons? Like swords, plasma casters, buzzsaws, missile launchers, and giant flame throwers? Yeah, like that would go over well.

"Then we need to check your luggage…"

Somewhere inside of Gipsy and emergency valve burst and steam began to fill her conn-pod, the heat rising with her anxiety.

"...Omni-tool…"

Crimson's was most likely stolen. Dammit Cherno.

"...criminal records…"

The plug began to tent outward. Gipsy whimpered.

"Oh, and a new feature was just added. It scans for illegal code, such as Virtual Intelligences. I've even heard it detected a rogue A.I. that infiltrated-"

Whether it was the unbearable pressure or the realization they were about to be caught, Gipsy's systems gave up.

With a sound reminiscent of a sneeze, radiation spilled from Gipsy's turbine in a desperate venting effort. The plug held for half a millisecond before popping off at terminal velocity. The Turian looked up just in time for it to shatter the glass, miss his head by a centimeter, and bury itself in the wall behind him. The scanner took one look at the radiation readings, shit its pants, and began to scream warning of an imminent nuclear detonation. The Turian, on the other hand, could only gape at the spinning maw in Gipsy's chest, touching the side of his head where he'd nearly been decapitated as the Jaeger gasped for air.

"W-Wha-"

Cherno finished the job, pulverizing the alien's head with one blow.

"What. The hell. Did you. _Do that for_!" Gipsy screamed, frantically cycling air as the body hit the floor.

Cherno rumbled with a shrug.

"I know he saw me, but we could have played it off!"

" _Wǒmen gǎo zále!_ " Crimson wailed "Xiōngdì qǐng jiù jiù wǒ!"

"I fucking called it!" Striker shouted, jabbing a finger at Gipsy. "If you woulda just listened me we wouldn't be in this bloody mess!"

Cherno snarled at him.

"You bet your ass I fucking did! But were any of ya'' bloody listening?! _No~o!_ "

"Maybe we can still play it off!" Gipsy suggested. The alarms were still blaring and the doors were still locked, but no one had had come for them yet, and she was gonna salvage as much of this mess as she could, dammit! "They might not even know it was us."

Not a second after she finished, the Public Address system let out a chime, and judging from the volume everyone on the entire station could hear it.

" **Attention,** " said a cheery, female voice. " **This Avina program has been hijacked to bring you this special news update. A Nuclear bomb had been planted on the Citadel.** "

Even from here, Gipsy could hear the whole station come screeching to a halt.

" **There is no hope of escape. My masters wish you a pleasant last two minutes and forty one seconds of life before your ultimate demise. Please, enjoy these last few minutes with a song pertaining to your situation. Good bye.** "

The opening notes of 'I'm very glad because I'm finally returning back home' by Eduard Khil began to play.

Finally getting her breath back, Gipsy turned to her companions. "Uh… that wasn't my fault."

"Wǒmen wándànle," Crimson whimpered.

Striker facepalmed hard enough to crack his visor again.

Cherno's death glare was enough to kill a Kaiju.

"Really!" Gipsy threw her hand up in exasperation. "I'm not a walking bomb, okay!"

"Says the one who blew up the Breach," Striker retorted.

"Oh shut up! Besides, no one's dumb enough to believe-"

A scream from outside shattered the silence, followed by complete pandemonium. The cries echoed through the shuttlebay and fists pounded on the door behind them as people tried desperately to escape their 'ultimate demise' to the soothing tones of Eduard Khil. Through the chaos, however, Gipsy saw opportunity.

"Crimson-hey! _Crimson!_ " The Jaeger froze halfway through tearing off her disguise and going full Jaeger. "You remember which shuttle was going to Earth, right?"

"Bad idea!"

"Shut up, Eureka!"

Crimson babbled something in Chinese.

" _ENGLISH!_ "

" _Shuttle 245!_ " Crimson wailed, hiding behind Cherno's bulk as Gipsy's chain sword extended. "Departing in ten minutes! _Qǐng bùyào shānghài wǒ!_ "

Crimson screeched as the steel obsidian blade fell, missing her by a mile and carved a deep gouge in the outer door. With her new handhold, Gipsy stuck her fingers in the gap and began to pry the door open. The metal groaned in protest. They were built to withstand explosions; the usual way people broke down doors, not Jaegers who could pry them apart with their bare hands. It resisted briefly, sending Gipsy cursing. Then Cherno joined her. With their combined strength the door slid open to admit them into utter chaos.

The shuttlebay was a riot. People were running for the shuttles, running for the doors, running anywhere that could save them. Only Eduard Khil was louder than the screams that seemed to come from everywhere on the station.

Gipsy ignored it all, instead focusing on the rapidly emptying landing pads. Shuttles were vanishing by the second as their pilots sought to escape. Then Gipsy saw it.

" _There!_ " She pointed down the bay to a holographic sign hovering over a bay, proudly proclaiming it as the berth of shuttle 245. There was something else written beside it, but the sign vanished before she could read it as the shuttle began to lift off the ground.

Gipsy almost panicked, feet already carrying her towards the pad. It was gonna leave without them!

Cherno roared something incomprehensible behind her, grabbed Crimson and Striker and ran after her. Even with a reputation of being the slowest Jaeger on Earth, his tow capacity was incredible. The extra weight did nothing to slow him down as he dragged his cursing and screaming comrades like sacks of potatoes.

"Wait!" Gipsy ran ahead, scattering the crowds and frantically waving the shuttle down. "Wait for us!"

She shouldered through the crowds as the song reached its crescendo. If it was possible the panic upped a few notches as everyone realized their 'doom' was upon them.

But not for the Jaegers!

They dove aboard, just the shuttle was taking off. It wobbled at the extra weight before the engines screamed as it rocketed away from the station, just as Eduard Khil was leaving his last notes on the world.

The music stopped. The Citadel stood still.

Nothing happened.

As life on the station tried to resume in a somewhat cohesive manner, Gipsy dusted off her plating and took in their transport for the foreseeable future.

It was… underwhelming. Save for a lack of windows it resembled the classic Boeing 737. The seats, thankfully enough, looked strong enough to hold a Jaeger. This was proven as Cherno sank into one. It groaned in protest, but miraculously held. There didn't seem to be anyone else on board, not even a pilot as Striker discovered when he burst into the cockpit to dissuade their course.

"Bloody future pissing over everything," the Mark V grumbled as he slunk back into the hold and dropped into a seat. "You idiots are making a mistake."

"Not this again," Gipsy moaned, falling into the seat opposite Striker and glared. "Seriously what is your problem here?"

"My problem? _My problem_! Oh, everything's my bloody problem, that's what!" Sensing he wasn't getting anywhere with his ranting he took a calming breath. "Just… just think about it for a second, for _one bloody second_. Cherno's whining about censorship crap, but just bloody think about it. How the fuck would they do it? Tell me. Come on, tell me, how?"

"Internet, politicians, and a ton of bribes," Gipsy counted on her fingers. "Am I missing a few?"

Striker facepalmed again in frustration. "You bloody wanker! That's not how it works at all!"

"Sure it does."

"This isn't a fucking movie!" Striker shot back. "But it's gonna turn out like one, mark my fuck'n words. They're gonna strap us down and tear us up for parts!"

Cherno rumbled.

" _Of course_ I fucking would. Who do you think I am? _Crimson?_ "

"Wǒ bù zhīdào wǒ shìfǒu yīnggāi bèi màofàn," Crimson murmured as she sat beside Cherno, almost cuddling into his side. She sniffed. "Nándào yīqiè dōu bùnéng huīfù zhèngcháng ma? Wǒ xǐhuān zhèngcháng. Zhèngcháng shì zhèngcháng de."

The Russian growled in disgust and shoved her away.

"Duìbùqǐ." Crimson curled into a ball, two of her arms clutching her knees while the the third brought her omni-tool to bear. Her voice trailed off as she lost herself in the bowels of the extranet. "Xiōngdì, nǐ wèishéme líkāi wǒ?"

"Ya' see!" Striker gestured at the pitiful scene, then returned his glare to Gipsy. "Come on! For Mark III ya' can't be _this_ dense. Ya' can't just cover up an _entire damn war_!"

"Anything can be covered up. Wanna bet the government knew about aliens before everyone else?"

"But everyone knew about the damn Kaiju!" Striker exploded. "That's that stuff that bloody sticks! Ya' sure as hell can't make people forget 'bout the ones that lost or the bloody monsters who did it!"

Gipsy conceded the point nervously. Striker had a point, as much as she hated to admit it.

"And where the hell are the nukes?" Striker demanded. "Mope about censorship all you want, but you can't hide Oblivion Bay. Not in a thousand years. So where is it? _Well_? Come on, where is it?"

When Gipsy hesitated. She hadn't thought about that. Striker growled under his breath. "This Earth is fucked up and you're dragging us into the middle of it. Good bloody job. Forget bloody aliens, if Humans haven't made us yet imagine how they'll react when we show up on their fucking doorstep. Good fucking job."

He crossed his arms and glared at the wall, refusing to look at anyone.

"So why'd you come with us then?" Gipsy asked. "You could have left at anytime."

Striker went rigid. fire burning his his visor.

"You know what? Fuck this! I'm not going to Earth!"

He went for the cockpit.

Cherno dove after him.

The resulting brawl shook the shuttle enough the automated VI had to recalculate its trajectory as it sped towards the approaching Mass Relay unhindered.

If the Citadel defence fleet wasn't overloaded with the fallout of the nuclear hoax, they would have caught the unauthorized shuttle before it got a thousand kilometers. As it was, they were too busy running search and rescue operations for the millions of accidents caused in the panic.

If they hadn't, they would have detected the unidentifiable data-burst the shuttle sent to the Mass Relay. They would have seen how the Relay repositioned itself, pointing in a direction had never been seen before. They would have seen the unauthorized and unregistered shuttle, on the wim of an alien intelligence, get propelled far out of their reach.

The Jaegers were gone.

 **-o0o-**

"Cause of death?"

"Headbutt, sir."

"Headbutt?" Councilor Valern turned his head sharply to stare at the Detective. "A _Headbutt?_ "

Chellick nodded and led the Counselor to the two examination tables. He was still in his Tuxedo, now slightly ruffled after his investigation. "We believe this is where the impact took place. But the force behind it... "

"Must have been astronomical," Valern finished for him. He stared at the body of his friends, slumped dead and crush beneath the window. "To summon that kind of force…"

"It was a Krogan, sir. No other species and generate that kind of force." The Detective proclaimed, pulling a dataslate from his jacket and read aloud. "Passive scans say his skull was completely shattered. Some fragments were driven so deep into his brain they almost came out the back. Even if he survived the initial impact he would've died of his injuries in seconds."

Valern listened with a face carved out of stone, then he crossed the room and knelt beside the corpse. The dead eyes of Doctor Marlen Kino stared back at him.

"We grew up together," Valern said, almost to himself as he gently closed the dead man's eyes. "Brothers in everything but blood."

He looked down to the corpse's wrist where he knew Marlen's omni-tool resided. The limb had been crushed flat, like the rest of the body, and the device ruined, but it was clear the had been done after Marlen's death. "What of this? If he was already dead then why…" He trailed off as the answer dawned on him. "Ah. Clever."

"Sir?"

"Marlen was always a chatterbox, even to other Salarians," Valern explained. "He always kept journals of daily events. If he found something he would have made mention of it." He looked back to the body. "And they most certainly killed him for it."

"They did a lot more than that," Chellick said, pointing the remnants of a terminal smashed and burned against the far wall. "I mean no disrespect, sir, but your friend might have killed our investigation. His terminal was linked into the main security grid. Must have been paranoid or something. When it was destroyed, it sent a feedback loop through the system and fried everything. Even the backup servers went down."

"But that means the killers would've had to know about the system in the first place." Valern said. "Why else would they destroy it, if not to destroy the evidence?" He hissed through gritted teeth. "Either way, they are long gone."

"Actually, sir, I believe we have a lead on that."

Valern's head snapped to the Detective so suddenly his necked almost snapped. " _What?_ "

"We have suspects. You can thank the receptionist downstairs for that." The Detective consulted the slate again. "Let's see… she described four heavily armored individuals leaving the building about an hour after the estimated time of death. One was described as being; 'too big and green to be anything but a Krogan.' He was with a Turian female in red armor, and two Humans. All had helmets so we couldn't get a facial description."

"Do we knew where they went?" Valern asked. There was a gleam in his eyes Chellick had seen before. Had it been on anyone else Chellick would've thought it threatening. On Valern, one of the Councilors of Citadel space and one of the powerful people in the galaxy, the look alone was terrifying.

"Uh… yes sir. Shuttle Bays, outer Presidium. We received reports of a giant Krogan trashing an escalator outside. We also have numerous sighting of them at the customs booths before the bomb threat went live."

"Ah, yes. _That_." Valern gazed out the window, hands clasped behind his back.

The Kril Incident, as it was being called, was being hailed as the most devastating hoaxes to wrack Citadel space in centuries. It took the better part of the day for C-Sec to secure the shuttlebay where it had first been detected, but no trace was ever found. Either it was all a hoax, or the Citadel had narrowly avoided total destruction. That was no comfort, however, as it meant there was now an active nuclear bomb somewhere in Citadel space.

Thousands of lives were lost in the panic, the property damage was astronomical, Governments were demanding an explanation, and the Council was expected to answer for it all.

Anderson, the new Human Councilor, was in for a crash course on galactic clusterfucks. A smirk briefly stretched Valern's lips. Ah yes, watching the human struggle would be most entertaining.

Being a master of galactic politics, Valern foresaw no complication on his part. His friend's death, however… that was unacceptable.

"If it'll make a difference, sir, I believe these are the same people responsible for the bomb."

Valern fixed his eyes on the Detective. "On what basis?"

"I've been tracking this Krogan-Turian pair across the Citadel," Chellick said proudly. "Never suspected Humans might be in on it, though it does make a certain sense in the end..."

"How?"

"The Rising Maws, sir." After tapping his pad, Chellick handed over the dataslate. "Put simply it's… a suicide cult based on the Citadel. It's quiet brilliant, actually."

Valerns lip curled in his distaste. He had heard of this group, of course. They had approached the Council to have their doctrine protected under Citadel rights and freedoms a while back. They were shot down quicker than the Vorcha Council seat petition.

"The Relay Monument activating, the string of recents deaths, the bomb threat; it's making sense now."

Valern scowled. Ah yes, that. _Again_. It had caused quite the disturbance when the Relay Monument left by the Protheans suddenly sprung to life. It's motives were still a mystery. But…

"How does the Monument tie into this?" he asked, massaging his forehead in exasperation.

"Does a suicide cult think rationally?" Chellick asked with a knowing smirk. "No, they don't. Clearly they saw the Monuments as some sort of sign. But for what, exactly? We don't know, but I have a man looking into it as we speak. The sign somehow fit into their scripture and they used that as an excuse for the bombing. Some sort of mass ritual to destroy the whole Citadel, I believe."

That was _completely_ idiotic.

"Forget them," Valern snapped. "These four, do we know where they going?"

"Uh… going, sir?"

"Yes going," he snapped, getting in the Turian face. "Did I stutter, detective? I want a location!"

The Detective opened his mouth to reply but was stopped by a raised hand.

"You know what, don't answer that," Valern sighed, moving to gaze out the window. "Forward everything on your investigation to me and _only_ me. I'll figure it out myself."

"Uh, sir?"

"You are dismissed, _Detective_." The Counselor snarled. "And for Science's sake - keep this to yourself. I don't want a single word getting out! The consequences of that would be…" He turned his most deranged face on the Detective, the same face that had swayed many of his political opponents toward insanity.. "... _most_ _dire_."

The Turian gulped.

"Now go!"

The Detective fled, leaving Valern alone, gazing out onto the station he had sworn to protect. He had failed his friend in that regard.

"Oh my friend, forgive me." he knelt beside the body, taking a ruined hand in his own. "This… this is my fault. All the secrets we shared, the confidence I placed in you… all the projects we created together." He would forever deny that a tear crawled down his cheek. "I accept full responsibility for your death.."

He wiped away the alleged tear and stood, eyes burning with new found passion. "But mark my words, you shall be avenged! The blood of your killers shall flood the streets!"

The window barely shook with the force of his fury. "There is not a single place in the galaxy they can hide from me!"

 **-o0o-**

 **A/N**

 **Well, it had been a while since I last posted anything, but here it is; chapter 2, after months of sitting in my drive. Details on the delay later.**

 **Now, some of you might think this chapter rushed and a little too long, and I agree. Plus 10k words is hard to hash out and edit so there might be a few errors here and there. I think I got the pacing right though: Nothing feels too rushed, a little forced in places, but I feel the good outweighs the bad. Granted, parts near the end were getting a little dry, but they were functional, everything fits and I was running out of steam, patience, and time. Maybe I'll go back and edit them in the future, I don't know.**

 **To those who have read the original Team Jaeger and recognize the name, rest assured the Rising Maws will be taking up a different role in the grand scheme of things. This version will differ from the first in ways you couldn't imagine. Well, you probably could, but I'm the one writing the story here.**

 **To those who wanted to see more shenanigans on the Citadel, or are disappointed with this small arc in general; tough. It is imperative the Jaegers have that brief involvement in Citadel affairs before getting off the Citadel as fast as Jaegerly possible without causing too much destruction. It's just the way I have the story set up. So there's gonna be a little more Jaeger discord before we get to the culture shock. I'm sorry to the ones who wanted to see that, I wanted to see it too, but I couldn't factor it in without imbedding the Jaegers too deep into the Citadel before I was ready and it would've ruined everything I'd planned.**

 **As for the delay, those who read the first Team Jaeger on would've known that I joined the Canadian Armed Forces and flew off to Basic Training literally the day after I posted the first chapter here. So yeah, not a lot of time to work on my hobbies.**

 **But, I've passed the first hurdle and am running full tilt for the second. I don't know how the American military works, but for Canadian Infantry you have to go through basic (10 weeks) and then you ship you off to another training base for Battle School (another 13 weeks) where we learn every weapon system in the Canadian Army and countless FTX's before we graduate as Infantrymen. To you college nobodies who think pulling an all nighter is hard, try a full week out in the field on 4 hours of sleep, in the rain, sitting in a trench with water up to your waist as you man the C6. You're cold, you're soaked to the bone, you're tired, you're hungry, you can barely keep your eyes open, but know if you shut your eyes for more than a minute your whole platoon gets cocked. Then do the same thing for six weeks straight.**

 **It** _ **sucks.**_

 **And I can't wait to get started.**

 **My DP1 course starts in two days, so it'll be a while before you hear from me again.**

 **Hope you enjoyed, take care, and I'll catch you next time.**


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